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POPULAR NOVELS 


BY MAY AGNES I^LEMING. 




1. — GUY EARLSCOURT’S WIFE. 

2. — A WONDERFUL WOMAN. 

3— A TERRIBLE SECRET. 

4. — NORINE’S REVENGE. 

5. — A MAD MARRIAGE. y 

6. — ONE NIGHT’S MYSTERY. 

7. — KATE DANTON. 

8. — SILENT AND TRUE. ' 

9. — HEIR OF CHARLTON. 

10. — CARRIED BY STORM. . 

11. — LOST FOR A WOMAN. 

12. — A WIFE’S TRAGEDY. 

13— A CHANGED HEART. 

14. — PRIDE AND PASSION. 

15. — SHARING HER CRIME. 

16. — A WRONGED WIFE. 

17. — MAUDE PERCY’S SECRET. ' 

18. — THE ACTRESS’ DAUGHTER. 

19. — THE QUEEN OF THE ISLE. , 

20. — THE MIDNIGHT QUEEN. K 

21. — EDITH PERCIVAL. 

22— WEDDED FOR PIQUE. 

23. — A FATEFUL ABDUCTION. 

24. — THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


/ 


(New). 


“Mrs. Fleming’s stories are growing more and more popular 
every day. Their delineations of character, life-like con- 
versations, flashes of wit, constantly varying scenes, 
and deeply interesting plots, combine to place 
their author in the very first rank of Modern 
Novelists.’’ 


Elegantly bound in cloth, Price $1.50 each, and sent 
FREE by mail on receipt of price, by 

G. W. Dillingham Co., Publishers, 

NEW YORK. 


THE 


SISTERS OF TORWOOD 


A NOVEL 



/ 

By May Agnes Fleming 

M 

AUTHOR OF ‘‘GUY EARLSCOURT’S WIFE,” “ A WONDERFUL WOMAN,” 
“A FATEFUL ABDUCTION,” “WEDDED FOR PIQUE,” “ONE 
night's mystery,” “KATE DANTON,” “SILENT 
AND TRUE,” ETC., ETC; 



NEW YORK. 

G, W, Dillingham Co,, Publishers 

MDCCCXCVm 




Iv 176 


Copyright, 1890, By 
STREET AND SMITH 


Copyright, 1898, By 
G. W. DILLINGHAM CO. 



TIVO COPIES RECEIVED* 

C;id CDPV, 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. PAGE 

I. The Mistress of Torvvood. 5 

II. Lucy 15 

III. Madge 26 

IV. Coming Events, etc 40 

V. Edith 58 

VI. At the Gate 74 

VII. Florence 88 

VIII. “ This Gentleman is my betrothed Husband ”. . . 101 

IX. The Hut in the Woods 114 

X. Strictly Confidential 124 

XI. The Minister’s three Reasons 137 

XII. Mystery 143 

XHI. One of Edith’s Angels 155 

XIV. What the Moon Saw 165 

XV. Respectfully Declined 170 

XVI. The Shadow of What was to Come 182 

XVH. What Came 196 

XVHI. The Invalid 213 

XIX. As the Shadows Fell 222 

XX. In the Hospital 226 

XXI. On the Track 238 

XXH. Hunted Down 246 

XXHI. Unmasked , 259 

XXIV. A Confession 270 

XXV. Sister Marie ^. 276 

XXVI. Resurgam! . 282 

XXVH. Possibilities 292 

XXVHI. A New Friend 297 

XXIX. Florence and her Husband 303 

XXX. The Wedding .' 313 



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TIE SISTERS OE TOR WOOD. 


CHAPTEK I. 

THE MISTRESS OF TOEWOOD. 

A LONELY old house, standing by itself in a green 
hollo\Y, shut in on the three sides by the sloping hills 
of Maryland, and on the front a winding path, lead- 
ing down through a long avenue of pines to the 
ceaseless sea. A dingy old house, built of red brick, 
whose redness had long ago departed, leaving it 
black and dismal to look at — an old place, indeed, 
looking as old as the hills themselves almost, but 
strong and sturdy, and hale and upright through it 
all. True, the attics leaked, and the cellars were 
moldering, and the chimneys leaned like the Tower 
of Pisa, but the wall would have borne cannonadino^ 
and not minded it in the least, and the doors, of 
massive oak, and studded with huge nails of iron and 
brass, would have defied a battering-ram. A quaint 
old place, with peaked gables, high narrow windows, 
with diamond panes set in leaden casements, and 
two square towers at either end, giving it the look 
of a broken down church retired into private life. 

It was from this last it took its name — Torwood 
Towers — and there had been a time when banners 
floated from them in the breeze, announcing to the 

5 


6 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


country round when the lords of the manor were at 
home. But that time had passed away ; there was 
no lord to reign at Torwood Towers now, not even 
an hei^ but a jdinturefi* v^dovV and four blooming 
•^ITeiresses. 

Never before had Torwood been without an heir, 
but though the late Judge Torwood had been mar- 
ried three times, no son came to reign when he 
should have passed away. One daughter. Miss Lucy 
Torwood, followed his first marriage ; three daugh- 
ters, Mesdemoiselles Edith, Florence, and Margaret 
followed his secpnd ; and none at all his third. He 
had wedded firs\ for ifiohfey,' a Maryland heiress, 
ugly as a Hottentot, and with the purse of Fortuna- 
tus ; he had wedded next for love a beautiful Creole, 
whom he met in Cuba ; and he had married the last 
time for — he could hardly have told himself for 
what. Not for money — he had enough of that, and 
the lady had none ; not for love — at sixty-five gentle- 
men take to gout and rheumatism oftener than to 
the grande jpassion\ not for a housekeeper — Miss 
Lucy Torwood was twenty years old and an excel- 
lent manager. But in Washington he had met Mrs. 
Stuart, a handsome and well-preserved widow at five- 
and-forty, and without very well seeing any reason 
for it, he proposed, was accepted, and married. 

Widows of forty-five are not to be trifled with. 
Mrs. Stuart clinched the bargain at once, and though 
her son, a tall young man of five-and-twenty, who 
with M. D. after his name, supported his mother in 
very good style, looked grave and a little annoyed, 
she became Mrs. Torwood the third week after the 
offer. 


The sisters oe torwooe. 


7 

Judge Torwood had a way of burying his wives, 
but widows with grown up sons are apt to be tough, 
and the third Mrs. Torwood buried him three years 
after she married him. 

It was in Italy the sad event took place ; they 
had lived there ever since the marriage, for Judge 
Torwood’s health, and Mrs. Torwood’s pleasure, leav- 
ing only the eldest and the youngest Miss Torwood 
at home to look after the old place, for Miss Edith 
was in Cuba with her dead mamma’s friends, and 
Miss Florence was in a fashionable boarding-school 
in New York. And that perhaps, was the reason 
why such a general air of neglect and desolation 
reigned about Torwood Towers, why the broad fields 
that spread away around it, lay waste and unculti- 
vated, why the fences were broken, the outhouses 
decaying, the roof leaking, the orchard, shrubbery, 
and flower-garden running wild, the swallows build- 
ing their nests undisturbed in the eaves and sloping 
chimneys, the dogs and little negroes dozing lazily 
all day in the sunshine in the paved courtyard in 
front of the house, the gates hanging from their 
hinges, and grass growing tall and rank in the 
graveled footpath leading down to the sea. For 
though Miss Torwood was an excellent manager, 
she was only a young lady of three-and-twenty, too 
gentle to rule a tribe of lazy, shiftless servants, and 
a place so vast as Torwood Towers required the able 
head and strong hand of a man. 

In Torwoodtown, a bustling, self-important little 
place, half-fishing village half-city, Miss Torwood 
was very little knoAvn,' except to the tradespeople 
whose business brought them to the Hall ; while 


8 


THE SISTERS OE TORWOOD. 


Miss Margaret, better known as Miss Madge, was a 
celebrated character, known to all, high and low. 

The aristocracy in and around Torwoodtown 
called sometimes on the solitary young lady in the 
great lonely mansion ; but as Miss Torwood was 
not fond of society, these friendly visits were rarely 
returned, and the aristocracy became offended, and 
discontinued them. So Miss Lucy became known 
after a time as the Kecluse of Torwood, and was 
rarely seen except on Sunday at the little Scotch 
kirk in the town, for she was a strict follower of 
John Knox and her Scotch ancestors, and never 
failed, rain or shine, to appear every Sabbath morn- 
ing and afternoon in the square, high-backed pew 
under the pulpit. There the young men stared at 
the pretty, quiet face, bending over her hymn-book, 
but none of them got farther than lifting their hats, 
for Miss Lucy had a quiet dignity about her, that 
said in very large print, “ Thus far shalt thou come, 
and no farther.” 

The gossips whispered that Mr. Alexander Mc- 
Pherson, the tall young man in the white neckcloth, 
who propounded the Word to the kirk-goers of Tor- 
woodtown, and whose hair was sandy, whose face 
was freckled, and who spoke through his nose, never 
was so eloquent as when Lucy Torwood’s fair face 
looked up at him, banging the pulpit, and that his 
shambling pon}^ took him down the bridle-path 'lead- 
ing over the hill from the town to the Hall rather 
oftener than there seemed any real necessity for. 

But nobody knew exactly how this was, and 
Miss Lucy, taking care of her somewhat self-willed 
younger sister Madge, a sprightly damsel df six- 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


9 


teen, and attending to her housekeeping, and read- 
ing and sewing at home, cared very little what any- 
body said, and went serenely on in the even tenor of 
her way. Being so unobtrusive a character, it was 
nothing strange that Torwoodtown should, after a 
while, forget almost that there was such a place in 
existence as the Towers, or such a young lady as 
Miss Tor wood reigning there in solitary state, when 
an event occurred that brought both facts suddenly 
and vividly back to their memory. 

The event was the unexpected arrival of Madame 
Torwood, from Italy, clad in the deepest and richest 
habiliments of woe and widowhood, and bringing 
with her about two dozen trunks, and an equal 
number of bandboxes, and a spruce French maid, 
who wore long golden drops, silk aprons with cun- 
ning little pockets, in which her hands were always 
stuck, and who looked in splendid disdain out of her 
black eyes on Torwoodtowm and everybody in it. 

It was a Avarm June evening Avhen the Avidow 
came, and a Avarmer day succeeded. From early 
morning the sun had throbbed like a heart of fire in 
the purplish sky, and at its setting was burning out 
in scarlet splendor. The sea, clothed Avith sails, re- 
flected the red glory of the dying day in its mirror- 
like surface, and the long lazy sAvells broke one after 
another Avith a gentle wash on the Avhite sand. Tor- 
wood Towers lay still and lifeless as the Castle of 
the Sleeping Beauty ; the dogs dozing on the flag- 
stones, and the naked little negroes rolling oA-er 
in the warm sand, the only living things to be 
seen. 

Lower and lower the red sun sank, dipped behind 


10 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


the glowing horizon, and was gone. The evening 
star and a pale young crescent moon rose up in its 
stead, a delicious breeze floated from the sea, and 
then a door, opening on the piazza running around 
the second story, opened, and ^ lady came out, 
and began walking slowly up and down, up and 
down, and watching the white sails flitting over the 
waveless waters. 

A lady, tall of flgure, stately of mien, and haughty 
of carriage ; a lady who had been young aud hand- 
some thirty years before, but whose dark hair was 
threaded with silver now ; whose brunette complex- 
ion had faded to sallow ; whose chin was double, and 
ran into a throat unbending and stiff as a pillar ; 
whose mouth was hard and unsmiling ; whose step 
told a tale of iron resolution, and whose eye was like 
a hawk’s — a lady dressed in black from head to foot, 
and looking in her sables and crape like a dowager 
duchess, a lady, in short, who deposed Miss Lucy, 
and was the new Mistress of Torwood. 

Up and down the piazza, up and down, up and 
down, the lady walked, her eyes sometimes wander- 
ing over the wide sea, sometimes looking steadfastly 
at the boards she was treading, sometimes fixed im- 
patiently on the door from which she had issued. 

Ten minutes passed. The lady’s brows were con- 
tracting ; plainly she was not used to waiting ; then 
the door opened, and a gentleman stepped out and 
joined her. A gentleman who would have looked 
uncommonly tall had he not stooped ; a gentleman 
who at thirty should have looked young, but who 
by the aid of spectacles, an old-fashioned coat, and 
a preternaturally grave countenance looked old 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


II 


enough to be his own father ; a gentleman who was 
freckled, had sandy hair, and spoke through his 
nose, and who was known as the Reverend Alex- 
ander McPherson, of Torwoodtown. 

“ Well ? ” said the lady, fixing her keen, dark eyes 
on his face, and stopping in her walk. 

“ Well, ma’am ! ” replied the Rev. Alexander, in the 
nasal drawl peculiar to him, I have got through.” 

“ It took you some time to do it,” said Madame 
Torwood, rather curtly ; “ and now what do you 
think of it ? ” 

The Rev. Alexander was the most honest, plain- 
spoken, and straightforward of men. ‘‘The truth, 
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” was 
the golden rule he persistently followed in spite of 
the world, the flesh, and the devil. In Ins hand he 
carried a black cudgel; he always carried it, and 
it would have served an Irishman at Donny brook 
fair. AVhen some tremendous bullet of truth was 
ready to whiz out, it was his custom to strike his 
shillelah a smart rap on the ground. Tie gave it a 
knock now that made the piazza ring. 

“ I think, ma’am, it is the most unjust, absurd, and 
ridiculous will that was ever heard of ! ” 

The lady’s sallow face flushed, and her eyes 
flashed fire. 

“ Sir ! ” 

“ I repeat it, ma’am,” said the Rev. Alexander, 
giving the piazza another rap ; “ it’s the most pre- 
posterous thing that ever was known. My late 
friend, the judge, must have been stark, staring mad 
when he made it. Mad, ma’am ; mad as a March 
hare.” 


12 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


You are mistaken, sir. My husband was per- 
fectly sane.” 

“ Beg your pardon, ma’am ; no sane man could 
have made such a will ! It carries absurdity on the 
face of it. If one had read of it in the ‘ Children of 
the Abbey,’ or the ‘ Mysteries of ITdolpho,’ he would 
not have been surprised ; but in the ninetenth cen- 
tury, and by a Christian man, and what is more, a 
Scotchman^ and what is still more, a Presbyteriah ! 
Oh, ma’am, you’ll excuse me, but the judge must 
have been as mad as a Bedlamite.” 

“ Mr. McPherson,” said the lad}^, facing around 
rather fiercely, ‘‘ do j^ou mean to insult me ? ” 

“ By no means, ma’am,” said the imperturbable 
Mr. McPherson, no way discomposed; “you asked 
my opinion and you have it.” 

“ Opinions can be rather too plainly expressed. 
Be good enough to remember you are speaking of 
my dead husband.” 

“ It’s a most extraordinary will, ma’am.” 

“ My husband was a most extraordinary man, sir.” 

“ I always knew him to be eccentric,” said the 
Kev. Alexander, “ but I never before took him to be 

quite a foo .” Here the plains-poken divine had 

the grace to pause, and taking an immense snuff-box 
out of his pocket, gave it a hard rap on the lid, and 
politely pi:esented it to the lady. 

“ Snuff % ” he inquired, sententiously. 

Madame Torwood gave it aside long glance of dis- 
gust. 

“Not any, thank you. You were surprised, I 
suppose, when I sent for you this afternoon to read 
my husband’s will ? ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


13 


“ A little,” Mr. McPherson replied, drawing a huge 
pinch of Maccaboy up his capacious nostrils, and then 
blowing a blast that awoke the echoes in the 
lonely glen. ‘‘ I couldn’t see the necessity for 
it.” 

‘‘ Nor I,” said Madame Tor wood, shortly, “ and so 
I told the judge when he expressed the request that 
you should peruse it as soon as I arrived ; but 
it was the request of a dying man, and knowing 
that you and he were old friends, I agreed, of 
course.” 

Mr. McPherson nodded gravely, and pulled out a 
huge silver watch. 

“Yes, ma’am, and now is there anything else, for 
I must be going.” 

<t Why, then,” said the lady, coolly, my maid has 
heard through the servants’ gossip, and has told me, 
that you are paying attention — I believe that is the 
phrase — to Miss Torwood. Under present circum- 
stances you will see the necessity of discontinuing 
those attentions at once.” 

Anybody but the Eev. Alexander McPherson 
would have been discomfited by such an offhand 
way of doing business ; but it was not in the power 
of mortal man or woman to discomfit that self-pos- 
sessed divine. 

He only pulled out the big snuff-box again 3 and 
helped himself to another huge pinch. “ Certainly^ 
ma’am, certainly. You expect your son shortly, of 
course ? ” 

‘‘Yes, I saw him in Washington the day before 
yesterday, but only for a few moments. Profes- 
sional duties prevented his returning with me then, 


H 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


but I expect him every hour. I am waiting for him 
even now.” 

‘‘ Wait no longer then,” said a voice behind them ; 
“ your son is here.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


15 


CHAPTEE II. 

LUCY. 

Both turned round. A tall young man stood in the 
doorway, hat in hand, and Madame Torwood’s sallow 
face lighted up with pleasure at the sight. 

“My dear Paul,” she said, holding out her hand, 
“I am delighted to see you. When did you ar- 
rive ? ” 

“ Ten minutes ago. The servant who admitted me 
guided me here — I hope I am not an intruder.” 

“ IMot at all ; we were just speaking of you. Let 
me make you acquainted with the Eev. Mr. McPher- 
son, of Torwoodtown. Mr. McPherson — my son. 
Dr. Paul Stuart.” 

Both gentleman bowed, the doctor with a half 
smile at the other’s odd look, and the minister with 
gravest solemnity. 

“ I am pleased to make your aquaintance, Dr. 
Stuart,” he said eying, the young M. D. all over. “ I 
have heard a great deal of you. You are very clever 
in cases where the brains are affected, I believe ? ” 

“ I have devoted a good deal of my time to that 
particular portion of the human anatomy. I trust 
you will never need my services.” 

He had a half-laughing way of saying things, this 
Dr. Stuart, that puzzled you, and left you in doubt 
whether he was in jest or earnest. His smile. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


l6 

very genial and bright though it was, puzzled you 
too ; you could not tell whether he was laughing with 
or at you. He did not look like his mother, and he 
was none the worse for that, the Rev. Mr. McPher- 
son thought, except that he was tall like her, broad- 
shouldered, full-chested, and deep voiced. His hair 
was light, his eyes — very handsome eyes by the way 
— blue, bright, piercing, yet what are called laugh- 
ing eyes withal. His face was not handsome, and he 
Avore neither beard nor mustache, but intellect sat en- 
throned on the broad, white brow, and refinement 
around the clear-cut mouth. 

Dr. Stuart was sarcastic, perhaps a little cynical, 
but by no means out of tune Avith the Avorld, fastid- 
ious, keen-sighted in reading character, and clever in 
dissimulation. La Abater could have told all that, but 
for the rest he kneAV best Avhat he kneAA" himself, 
whether mercenary or generous, subtle, or wearing 
his heart on his sleeve, faithless or constant, pleasure- 
loving or of hermit-like continence. Standing in the 
doorAA^ay, still Avatching the sandy-haired minister 
Avith the same doubtful smile, he looked a fine, health, 
ful specimen of manhood — a lord of creation in every 
sense of the Avord. 

A clock inside struck eight. Mr. McPherson pulled 
out his silver Avatch and consulted it again. 

Ten minutes and a half sIoaa^,” he said, sol- 
emnly; “I must be going. Good-night, ma’am, 
good-night, doctor. The first time you visit the toAvn 
give me a call — shall be happy to see you in my hum- 
ble wigAA^am.” 

AVith which valedictory the worthy clergyman, 
Avho, strange to say, when he invited anybody, really 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 17 

meant it, went off slouchingly down the piazza stairs, 
mounted his shambling pony, and rode away in the 
misty moonlight over the hills to Tor wood town, leav- 
ing mother and son alone together. 

“Who is that odd-looking customer ? was the 
young man’s first question. 

“ Oh, a Presbyterian minister,” said the lady with 
an expressive shrug ; “ a well-meaning man, I believe, 
but such a bear, such a fright.” 

“ One of those men, I fancy like singed-cats — bet- 
ter than they look,” and he laughed his pleasant, 
yet half-cynical laugh. “Well, mother mine, and 
how do you like Torwood Towers ? ” 

The lady took his arm, and began walking him up 
and down the piazza. 

“I detest it. 1 should die of ennui here in a 
month. It is like being buried alive.” 

“ It is a fine old place, nevertheless.” 

“ Yes, for the rats, the dogs, and those filthy blacks. 
It is like a barn, damp and cold and dreary — it makes 
me think of ‘ Marianne in the Moated Grange.’ ' I 
hate it ? ” 

“ You will not live here, then ? ” 

“I would be sorry to live here. No, indeed, I will 
leave it as soon as I can, and go to Washington, 
Baltimore, or New York.” 

“ And that will be — how soon ? ” 

“ As soon as you are married.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Dr. Stuart ; and then there was a long 
pause. 

“ Mr. McPherson has just been reading the will,” 
was Madame Torwood’s next seemingly not very 
apposite remark, 

2 


1 8 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

“Has be?’’ 

“ Yes.” 

“ And what does be think of it ? ’’ 

“All sorts of insolence ; that it is unjust, absurd, 
ridiculous, and so on.” 

“ I agree with him.” 

“Paul?” 

“ My dear mother, you are talking to your son, 
your heir, your darling, your only one. Be natural ; 
speak your mind and say you think so your- 
self.” 

“ Paul, don’t be absurd ; I am certain that the judge 
never did a wiser act in his life than in the manner 
in which he has provided for his daughters.” 

The doctor laughed. 

“ For one of them, mother — I can’t marry them all. 
It was his own act, of course. I am certain my 
dear mamma had no hand in it.” 

“ Paul, what a detestable way you have of talking. 
Ho one can ever tell whether you are serious or in 
jest.” 

“In jest! Hothing of the kind. I never was 
more dismally serious in my life. I am positive 
you exercised no influence over him in favor of your 
son.” 

“ Very little. I may have suggested the idea, but 
nothing more.” 

“ He never saw me, yet he provides for me better 
than he does for his own daughters — all without 
being prompted. Thank you. Judge Tor wood,” 
and he raised his hat politely. 

“ Bah 1 you’ll never talk sense. Have you any ob- 
jections to this will ? ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


19 


“ ]S[one at all. How could I ? ” 

How, indeed. Some people are born with a sil- 
ver spoon in their mouth, and value it no more than 
if it were lead. How long am I to be kept a 
prisoner here ? ” 

That depends upon youself, madam.” 

“ Ho such thing, sir ; it depends on you. I shall 
stay here until you make your choice.” 

“ Oh ! ” said the doctor again, and then there was 
another pause. 

‘‘Well ? ” inquired Madame Torwood, after it had 
lasted nearly ten minutes. 

“Well? ” reiterated her son, like an echo. 

“ Paul, I have no patience with you. You are 
enough to provoke a saint ! Have you nothing to 
say ? ” 

“ Tots of things. Shall we begin with the 
weather ! It’s a safe topic.” 

“ 1 shall begin by boxing your ears,” said the lady, 
smiling in spite of herself at the young man’s inno- 
cent face. “ I want you to talk about these Tor- 
wood sisters.” 

“ A delightful subject on which I know nothing 
whatever.” 

“ And care less, I suppose ? ” 

“ By no means, madam ; I am always profoundly 
interested where young ladies are in question.” 

“ Especially when one of the young ladies is to be 
your future wife.” 

“ Oh ! ” said the doctor for the third time, in a 
tone not betraying the slightest particle of emotion. 

“You know,” persisted the lady, “that the 
youngest and oldest are here ? ” 


20 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


‘‘ I know it now — I did not before.” 

‘‘ Lucy and Margaret are here, one aged twenty- 
three, the other sixteen. Edith, who is next to 
Lucy, and who is twenty past, lives in Cuba — has 
lived there all her life.” 

“ Has she ? ” said the doctor, indifferently, seeing 
he was expected to say something. 

Her mother. Judge Tor wood’s second wife, was 
a Creole, and this Edith was born there. At her 
mother’s death, a Creole aunt took her, and kept her 
all this time. I wrote for her a month ago and 
received an answer from the aunt that she would 
obey the summons. Probably she will be here 
before the end of the week.” 

“ The aunt did not require much urging to give 
her up ? ” 

“ Oh, it is an understood thing that she is to go 
back ; she merely comes here in compliance with her 
deceased father’s last request that all his daughters 
should spend at least half a year together in this 
place upon my return, for a reason which you and I 
alread}^ know, and which is to be explained to them 
when together. Their father’s dying request must 
have weight with them, little as they knew of him. 
This Edith, it appears, scarcely knew him at 
all.” 

“Ah! she will not be quite inconsolable at his 
loss, then.” 

“ The third daughter, Florence, aged eighteen, is 
at a boarding-school in Hew York. I called at the 
school the day before I left, but it was a holiday, it 
appears, and teachers and pupils were all in the 
country. I left a letter, however, for the directress, 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


21 


Miss De Juponville, explaining* all, telling her to 
pack up the young lady and her belongings, and 
send them on here without delay.” 

“ Did you say the name of the directress was 
Madame De Juponville ? ” asked Dr. Paul, with 
sudden interest. 

‘‘ Yes, that is the name.” 

“ And the seminary is in Street ? ” 

“ Yes, have you been there ? ” 

The doctor laughed his very doubtful laugh, and 
his blue eyes looked knowing. 

“ Oh, I have been there. Florence Tor wood — 
hum-m-m. Do you know what Florence looks like ? ” 

“ No ; why ? ” 

“ Nothing ; perhaps I have seen her there, that is 
all. Do you not find this night breeze chilly — shall 
we go in ? ” 

“ I prefer staying here. Now, Paul, my dear 
boy, you understand how matters are, and I am sure 
you will do your best and not disappoint your 
mother.” 

“ Which, translated, means, I suppose, j. am to oe 
good, and mar ” 

He stopped short, for through the open doorway 
he saw a young lady crossing the hall and coming 
toward them. A slender figure, with pale golden 
hair, dressed very simply in black, and dangling a 
bunch of housekeeping keys in one hand. Madame 
Torwood saw her too, and spoke. 

“ Miss -Tor wood — Lucy — come here one moment. 
This is my son. Dr. Stuart, — Paul, Miss Torwood.” 

“I am happy to make Miss Tor wood’s acquaint- 
ance,” the doctor said, while the young lady dropped 


22 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


her eyes and bowed in silence. A fine old place 
this ancestral home of yours.” 

He had been taking a cool survey, not of the old 
place, but of the young lady while be spoke, and 
before he had finished his short speech, had formed 
his opinion. What it was he knew best, but cer- 
tainly one of his conclusions must have been that 
she was pretty. The pale gold hair, worn in a 
simple knot behind, was abundant and glossy ; the 
brow it shaded both broad and high ; the features 
small, delicate, and regular; the complexion fair, 
with just enough rose tint in the cheeks to save her 
being called pale. It was a gentle face, placid and 
calm, and Miss Lucy was a fireside fairy, as you 
know already, shining, not in the glare of society, 
with very little to say, and saying that little very 
modestly, in a very low and sweet tone. Some 
youthful scions of the female aristocracy of Tor- 
woodtown stigmatized her as “ that insipid thing;” 
but all the world knows how the dear angels talk of 
each other behind backs ; and Miss Lucy, though 
she heard it, never retaliated, but smiled upon them 
as gently and as kindly the next time they met as 
ever. 

Did Dr. Paul Stuart, clever man of the world, sick 
of fashionable fiirts and gaudy ball-room butterflies, 
like quiet little household angels, soft of step, silvery 
of voice, and deft of hand ? If so, Lucy Tor wood 
must have suited him to the finest fiber of his being, 
for in her, at one glance, he read all of these. 

“ A fine old place,” the doctor repeated, his eyes 
turning at last from the pretty quiet face to the 
prospect before him j “ a place to be proud of,” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 23 

“Yes;” Lucy said, simply, but her eyes shone 
and her still face lighted as she said it. 

You could see she was proud of it, and in her own 
silent way loved every tree, and shrub, and stone 
about it. Yery fair it looked in the moonlight — all 
that was rough and harsh toned down and refined ; 
the sea, flooded with the silvery light, surging in 
with a gentle wash on the shore, and the distant 
boats looking like fairy barks on a fairy sea. 

“ Where is your sister? ” Madame Torwood sud- 
denly asked. She had been gazing steadfastly on 
the water, watching a light skiff that Avas rapidly 
nearing the shore, the rope of its one white sail 
held by a young girl Avho lay in the stern singing 
at the top of a pair of powerful lungs some wild sea 
chorus, 

“ Madge is out somewhere — she is always out.” 

“ Who is that girl coming ashore in the boat ? ” 

Lucy’s eyes followed the lady’s index finger. 

“That is Madge,” she said, in a matter-of-fact 
tone ; “ she’s been out sailing, I suppose.” 

Madame Torwood’s brow contracted. 

“ May I ask, Miss Torwood, if it is your sister’s 
custom to go sailing all alone ? ” 

“ Yes, madam.” 

“Is she — are you — not afraiu she will be 
drowned ? ” 

“ Who ? Madge ! Why, there is not a fisher- 
man in Torwoodtown can manage a boat better 
than she ? ” 

“ A rare accomplishment for a young lady. 
Pray, how many more of these fantastic tricks 
before high heaven does she play ? ” 


24 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


“ Madam ? ” inquired Lucy, looking puzzled. 

Dr. Stuart laughed, and good-naturedly came to 
the rescue. 

“ Never mind, mother. ‘ AYhat’s the odds so long 
she’s happy,’ as our friend Punch says. By Jove! 
she does it well.” 

The heroine of the skiff had run her boat deftly 
up on the sands in a little cove, had sprung lightly 
ashore, made it fast, slung the light oars over her 
shoulder, and, still singing, began tripping in a 
jaunty, springing step up the beach. A dog — a huge 
Livonian wolf-hound that had been crouching in the 
bottom of the boat — followed her, and both made 
a very pretty tableau in the moonlight.” 

‘‘ U na and her lion,” said the doctor. “ Your sister 
is of the Di Yernon style of young ladies, I see. Miss 
Torwood.” 

Miss Torwood smiled. 

“ Madge never heard of Di Yernon in her life.” 

“ She never reads then ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, yes ; but not the ‘ Waverley Novels.’ She 
tried once to read the ‘ Bride of Lammermoor,’ I re- 
member; but gave it up at the third chapter, and 
told me it was — let me see — no end of a hum- 
bug.” 

The doctor laughed again, and Madame Torwood’s 
haughty brow contracted still more at the sound of 
the slang. The phrase sounded very odd from Lucy’s 
pretty lips, but she repeated it with so much sim- 
plicity that it had provoked the doctor’s last laugh. 
Una and her lion were now near, and they could 
hear distinctly the spirited words of the old song she 
sung. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


25 


“ Some love to roam 
O’er the dark sea foam, 

Where the shrill winds whistle free ; 

But a chosen band 
In a mountain land, 

And a home in the woods for me ! ” 

‘‘ A home in the woods ? ” muttered Madame Tor- 
wood. Yes, I should think so. Among bears and 
wild Indians would suit you best.” 

All unconscious of the criticism, Madge Torwood 
was up the grass-grown foot-path, with her oars on 
her shoulder, her dog at her heels, up the piazza stairs, 
with her tune still on her lips, and flushed and, breath- 
less, was in their midst the next moment. 


26 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


CHAPTEK III. 

MADGE. 

A TALL figure, slim and straight as a young poplar ; 
shining black hair, cropped close like a boy’s — other- 
wise “ shingled ; ” black eyes, large, brilliant, restless 
a thin dark face, brown and sunburned; features 
irregular, and not at all pretty ; shining white teeth, 
and hands brown and hard with exposure to the 
sun and wind and not a little rough work. That 
was Madge Torwood as she stood on the piazza in 
the twilight. A black straw hat, with a long black 
feather, sat jauntily on one side of her head ; a black 
velvet basque, buttoned up with bright silver buttons 
over a black skirt reaching barely to her ankles. 
Perhaps there was coquetry as well as convenience 
in this, for mademoiselle had very pretty little feet, 
displayed to the best advantage in a pair of dainty, 
high-heeled Balmoral boots. 

To say that the youngest Miss Torwood was ec- 
centric would be to do no sort of justice to her char- 
acter. Even hoidenish would be a mild term for a 
young lady who rode steeple-chases, could sail a yacht 
safely across the Chesapeake, bring down a partridge 
on the wing, or a trout in the water, with her light 
rifle, and who could dance a banjo breakdown with 
the strongest Sambo on her estate. A young 
lady who clapped the young gentlemen of Torwood- 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


27 


town and the country round on the shoulder when 
they did deeds she approved ; called them ‘‘ fellows,” 
and ordered them about as if she had been their 
grandmother ; who read the sporting papers, talked 
slang, sang all the comic songs of the day, and knew 
more about prize-fights than her prayers. 

Miss Madge was all this and more ; not in the 
least pretty either, yet half the young men in the 
place were going wild for her. Whether it was her 
black eyes, or her dashing deeds, or her spirited way 
of talking to them, or some nameless fascination about 
the witch, the bewildered youths never could tell ; 
but certain it is, she had three times as many beaux 
as any other girl in the town. Madge liked them 
all, and treated all precisely alike ; if she had any 
preference, she sometimes said, when hard pushed, 
it was for the Rev. Alexander McPherson, on account 
of his never-to-be-sutficiently admired way of always 
telling the plain unvarnished truth ; but, oh ! why need 
he tell it through his nose ? In this last particular she 
was uncommonly like him herself, always saying pre- 
cisely what she thought with terrible candor, and was, 
in consequence, the dread and detestation of all the 
female element of the place. “ Tomboy,” “ brazen,” 
‘‘ indelicate,” were their mildest adjectives when Miss 
Torwood the younger was under dissection, and that 
poor dear Miss Torwood, the elder, who tried so hard 
to civilize her, and failed so signally, was pitied and 
sighed over. 

Lucy certainly had done her best with the wild 
girl, and if her success had not been very great, it 
was greater than any one else could have accom- 
plished ; and Madge had an outlandish sense of 


28 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


gratitude of her own, and would sometimes come in 
a good and penitent mood, after some desperate 
freak, and put her arms round Lucy’s neck and call 
herself all sorts of hard names for grieving her, 
promising repentance and amendment of life for the 
future. Not that these promises were ever kept, 
sincere as she doubtless was in making them, and 
half an hour after she was galloping over the coun- 
try, or sailing over the sea, risking her good-for- 
nothing neck as recklessly as ever. Nature had 
certainly made a great mistake in not making her a 
boy, and Miss Madge thought so too, and took the 
matter particularly hard. 

“ I was intended for a boy, and I ought to be a 
boy,” w^as her indignant cry. ‘‘ I had no business 
being a girl. I hate girls ! and I like boys beyond 
everything ! ” 

Among her other eccentricities, Madge professed 
no religion in particular, but patronized all. Some 
Sundays she went with Lucy, and stared the Eever- 
end Alexander out of countenance with her great, 
solemn black eyes, and, coming home, would mount 
the kitchen table, tie a white napkin round her 
throat, and repeat to the tickled servants, Tvord for 
word, the whole discourse, nasal drawl and all, to 
the unspeakable discomposure of Lucy. Sometimes 
she favored the Methodist chapel, where she sang 
the loudest and most shockingly out of tune. 
Sometimes she appeared among the Episcopal wor- 
shipers, and made eysOs at sundry young gentlemen 
of her acquaintance over her psalm book ; and 
sometimes she tripped in among the Catholics, and 
wondered why they swung incense and lighted 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


29 


candles in daytime, and rang little bells ; and if the 
Sisters of Charity, who glided in like black shadows, 
with bowed heads and lowered veils, were really the 
broken-hearted, romantic creatures novels made 
them out to be. 

So in riding, and sailing, and scampering over the 
hills with her dogs, and doing pretty much as she 
liked, in spite of everybody, Madge grew up to be 
a tall girl of sixteen. The little learning she had 
Lucy had imparted, for she never would go to 
school, and for accomplishments she could dance 
anything from a mazurka to a jig, play the banjo to 
perfection, and draw caricatures of all her friends 
with chalk and charcoal. She had read all Mar- 
ry att’s novels. Lever’s, Lover’s, and all of the 
“ Claude Duval ” stamp she could lay her hands on. 
And now she is standing there in the moonlight 
while her photograph is being taken, staring at the 
doctor out of her great, black, dauntless eyes. 

“ My sister Madge, Dr. Stuart,” Lucy said, for 
Madame Torwood, shocked and displeased, was 
silent. 

The doctor bowed, but Miss Madge frankly held 
out her brown hand for him to shake. 

“ How do you do. Dr. Stuart ? I heard you were 
here, and hurried home on that account.” 

‘‘I am honored. Do the birds of the air carry 
you messages. Miss Madge ? I only arrived half an 
hour ago.” 

‘‘ Mr. McPherson told me, and if he is a bird of 
the air he must belong to the owl species,” said the 
young lady, taking off her straw hat, and swinging 
it coquettishly by the strings. Yery much like a 


30 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


saucy boy she looked, with her short-cropped hair, 
and speaking what she had to say in a voice 
decidedly more shrill than sweet. 

“ Madge,-’ gently reprimanded her sister. 

‘‘Beg your pardon, Lucy,” she said, with dancing 
eyes. “ I forgot you were present. The Reverend 
Mr. McPherson is an excellent man, and I admire 
him ever so much ; but he is exceedingly like an owl, 
nevertheless. Sancho, go down to your kennel, sir ! 
it’s time all honest dogs were in bed.” 

The well-trained hound got up slowly, shook him- 
self, and gravely descended the stairs. Madame 
Tor wood looked at him and then at his mistress 
with her cold, dark eyes. 

“ You have taught your dog what I fear you have 
failed to learn yourself, my dear — obedience.” 

“Oh,” said Madge, carelessly, “there is no one 
alive to whom I owe any obedience but sister Lucy, 
and I always obey her when she orders nothing 1 
dislike. Don’t I, Lucy ? ” 

Lucy smiled, and put her arm lovingly around the 
young girl’s shoulder. The half sisters resembled 
each other very little — the one so fair, so gentle, so 
placid, the other so dark, so fiery, so restless ; but 
they served admirably as foils, and made quite a 
pretty picture standing together. 

“ Let us go in,” said Madame Torwood ; “ the 
night air is chilly. Have you had supper, Paul ? — 
it is time to ask.” 

“ Ho, but it is of no consequence.” 

“ It is of consequence ! Lucy, my dear, will you 
attend to it ? ” 

“ I beg ” 


began the doctor, but Lucy had 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 31 

flitted away already, and Madame Torwood led the 
way into the house. 

The hall was long and dark, with flooring and 
wainscoting of black shining walnut, very antique 
and romantic no doubt to everybody but the house- 
maids, who, twice a year at house-cleaning time, had 
to scrub it with soap, and water, and furniture oil, 
until every bone in their bodies ached. A great 
brass lamp, quaint and carved, swinging from the 
ceiling by a brass chin, served to light it, but the 
moonlight only lighted it now and the doctor saw 
there were two doors on either side, and, at the 
farther end, a winding staircase, up Avhich you might 
have driven a coach and four. There was one oriel 
window at this end too, commanding a view of the 
grounds in front, with the misty hills rising away in 
the foreground, end there his observations ended, 
for his lady mother had opened the nearest door to 
the left, and they were in the drawing-room of 
Torwood Towers. 

It was a large room, but every room in the house 
was that ; and although the month was June and 
the night warm, a wood fire burned on the tiled 
hearth, and was very pleasant in its chilly vasfness. 
The furniture was modern enough, too modern for 
the oak paneling and carved ceiling, and mullioned 
windows ; and the Brussels carpet and gilt-framed 
mirrors, and chairs and sofa and fauteuils, uphol- 
stered in green velvet, and the inlaid tables, and 
freshly painted pictures by modern artists looked 
rather out of keeping with its somber gloom. There 
was a grand piano in one corner, with a music rack 
Well filled beside it ; a lamp in another, and a banjo 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


32 

lying on a lounge; there were flowers in vases, 
canaries in gilded cages, books and engravings scat- 
tered profusely on the taldes, and some swinging 
shelves filled with expensively bound volumes. 

Madame Torwood, with a shiver, drew up a luxu- 
riantly cushioned rocker to the fire. 

It is like a vault, this huge room ! I expect to be 
laid up with rheumatic fever before I am here a 
month ! ” 

“ A pleasant prospect. Luckily your son is an 
M. D., and nothing will afford him greater happiness 
than prescribing for you.” 

“ I am obliged to you ! Oh, here is your sup- 
per ! ” 

A mulatto boy entered, bearing a waiter laden 
with toast, cake, cold chicken, and fragrant tea. At 
the sight Dr. Stuart remembered he was hungry, 
and took his place before it at once. 

“ Miss Torwood must be a model housekeeper. 
I admire despatch of all things, particularly where 
my eating is concerned. Miss Madge, won’t you 
favor me with some music meanwhile, as an aid to 
digestion ? One cannot eat and talk, and I am cer- 
tain you play like another St. Cecilia. ” 

Madge, who had been standing whistling softly to 
the canaries, faced round. 

Did St. Cecilia play the banjo and Jewsharp ? be- 
cause they are the only instruments I understand.” 

admire the banjo, of all things. Won’t you 
favor us ? ” 

“ If Madame Torwood can stand anything so bar- 
barous, I shall be most happy. ” 

Madamo Torwood, nestling back luxuriously iu 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 33 

the rocker, with half closed eyes, glanced drowsily 
round. 

‘‘ Don’t mind me in the least, if Paul wishes to hear 
you.” 

“ Prepare to be enchanted then,” cried Madge, 
seizing her pretty banjo, and going off into one 
spirited negro melody after another in a manner 
that was enchanting in a small way. The girl played 
well ; everything she chose to do she did well, and 
Dr. Stuart’s fastidious ear was delighted. 

“ There ! ” she cried, giving the banjo a flourish 
as she finished “ Fisher’s Hornpipe. ” What do 
you think of that ? ” 

‘‘ I am in silent ecstasies ! You sing, do you not — 
but why do I ask, Avhen I have had the pleasure of 
hearing you already. ” 

“ To be sure I sing. Do you know ‘ The KaP 
catcher’s Daughter ? ’ ” 

“ I am afraid not.” 

“ I do then ; and here it is.” 

In her shrill voice, clear and high, if not particularly 
sweet, Madge set up “ The Katcatcher’s Daughter,” 
strumming a lively accompaniment on her banjo. 
The sound brought in Lucy, looking prettier and 
sweeter in the lamplight even than in the moon’s 
rays. 

“Oh, Madge! how could you sing that?” was 
her reproachful cry, with a deprecating look at the 
shocked face of madam. 

“ AVhy not ? ” said Madge, flinging away her banjo 
and opening the piano. “ Dr. Stuart asked me to 
sing and play, and I ilid my best. If that best was 
bad I could do no more. Come ! it’s your turn now,” 
3 


34 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


“By all means, Miss Torwood,” said the doctor, 
springing up with alacrity. “ I am passionately fond 
of music.” 

“ But I play so very little ! ” Lucy said, shrinking 
back. 

“ Nonsense ! you play and sing beautifully, Lucy. 
She does, upon my word. Dr. Stuart.” 

“ I am sure of it. Let me prevail on you. Miss 
Torwood.” 

“ Yes Lucy, let us hear you ! ” said madam, conde- 
scendingly from her throne in the ingle nook ; “ sing 
something for us — that is, if your songs are not in 
the same line as ‘ The Batcatcher’s Daughter. ’ ” 

“ I knewyou wouldn’t like it,” said Madge, coolly ; 
“ but that’s not my fault. I didn’t compose it ! 
Lucy, sing ‘"Whistle and I’ll come to j^ou, my 
lad.’” 

Lucy lifted her shy eyes to the doctor’s, bending 
over her. 

“ I can scarcely sing anything but old songs ! I am 
very unfashionable and countrified. Doctor.” 

“ I delight in old songs ; sing your sister’s favorite, 
and I will join you.” 

So they sang the spirited old Scotch ballad to 
gether, with Madge joining immediately in the 
chorus. 

“ I hope it will be a match,” said Madame Tor- 
wood, looking complacently on from behind her fan. 
“ She will make an excellent wife for my obstinate 
self-willed Paul. ” 

There were ever so many songs after that ; the 
doctor, who had an excellent bass voice, sang some 
Cxerman student’s song : and Lucy, coming out of her 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


35 


shyness sang, in her sweet, low voice, “Annie Laurie” 
at his request. She might have been Annie Laurie 
herself and so the doctor thought, listening to the 
silvery tones of the soft voice, and looking at the 
drooping blue eyes. 

“ Her face it is the fairest 
That e’er the sun shone on I ” 

he repeated, as the faint note died away. “ I think 
I can see Annie Laurie now ! ” 

“ In Lucy’s eyes ? ” asked Madge, flashing a saucy 
glance out of her own black ones ; “ are you taking 
her photograph in your mind’s eye, Doctor ? ” 

“ Madge ! ” reproved Lucy, rising hastily, with a 
vivid blush, “ how can you talk so ? ” 

“ Madge has a way of thinking too loud,” Madame 
Torwood said, coldly. 

“ Madam,” said Madge, with gravity befltting the 
subject, “ I went to hear the Kev. Alexander Mc- 
Pherson hold forth last Sunday, and he banged the 
dust out of the pulpit cushions, and fiercely told the 
brethren and sistern to tell the truth in season and out 
of season. I am trying to experience religion in a 
small way, and follow the Eev. Alexander’s ghostly 
teachings ! ” 

“ Bah 1 ” was madam’s disgusted retort, as she 
jerked out her watch. “ Eleven o’clock ! Eing the 
bell, Paul — I want Fifine.” 

Dr. Paul obeyed, and Fifine, the French maid, with 
the black eyes and cunning little aprons, came in, dip- 
ping and smiling. Taking the very broad hint thus 
conveyed. Dr. Paul selected one from the tray of 
bedroom candlesticks on the table, and lighted it 


THE SISTERS OP TORWOOD. 


36 

for Miss Torwood, who stood waiting to say good- 
night. 

“ Pleasant dreams, Miss Torwood,” he said, and 
Lucy rewarded him with a gentle smile ; “ pleasant 
dreams to you likewise. Miss Madge ! ” 

“ Oh, they will be delightful,” said Madge, making 
him a sweeping parting courtesy ; ‘‘ I shall dream 
of you 1 ” 

“Bold, forward minx!” was madam’s angry 
criticism, as the black head and the fair one dis- 
appeared ; “ if there is anything I abhor in young 
girls, it is pertness.” 

“ Good-night, mother,” Dr. Paul said, gravely, 
lighting his own candle. “ Which is the way to my 
room ? ” 

“ Fifine will show you,” said his mother ; “ good- 
night ! ” 

All the chambers in the house were on the third 
story. Dr. Stuart saw a flickering star of light and 
two black skirts flitting into one of them as he reached 
the landing above, and he passed on to his own room, 
whistling “ Annie Laurie.” 

It was a pretty room that which tlie orphan sisters 
occupied in common, with one large bow wdndow 
comnianding a sunny southern prospect, a charming 
recess of a window, with a cushioned divan running 
round it, and curtained with white lace and crimson 
damask. All its furniture was quaint and old- 
fashioned, the mahogany old as the hills and thick 
with eruptions of brass-headed nails ; the bed, cur- 
tained and covered with white, emblematic of purity 
and all that sort of thing, was large enough to have 
held the Seven Sleepers, and in the queer-looking 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 37 

Inirror over the dressing-table Luc}^ Tor wood’s great 
grandmother, on the female side, had looked on her 
bridal night. 

“ Oh, how sleepy I am 1 ” exclaimed Madge, with 
a terrific yawn, beginning rapidly to undress ; “ T 
am as tired as if I had been on the treadmill, and 
feel as if I could sleep a week.” 

“ Don’t forget your prayers,” Lucy interposed 
gently. 

Bother ! ” said Madge, but nevertheless she went 
down on her knees for about a minute and a half, 
then jumped out of all her clothes at once, leaving 
them, according to custom, in the middle of the floor, 
dived into a long white wrapper, leaped into bed, 
and nestled down among the soft pillows Avith a 
luxurious sense of intense sleepiness. 

Lucy stood before the mirror combing out her 
long, bright hair, looking thoughtfully at her own 
pretty face, Avhen Madge’s black head suddenly 
bobbed itself up. 

“ Lucy ! ” 

“Well, dear?” 

“ LIoav do you like Dr. Stuart ? ” 

“Very well.” 

“ I don’t, then. I hate him ! ” very drowsily, 
though, for so energetic a declaration. 

“ That’s very wrong,” said Lucy, placidly, “ you 
shouldn’t hate any one.” 

A pause— Lucy goes on with her combing, and 
Madge dozes. Presently the black head starts up 
again. 

“ Lucy ! ” 

“ Well? ” 


38 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

“ Do you think he’s handsome ? ” 

‘‘ Who ? ” 

“ Dr. Stuart.^ 

“No.” 

“ Neither do I. I can’t bear him. He look sat 
you with that hateful smile, as much as to say ‘ I 
know all about you, you know, but I won’t tell.’ 
Oh, he’s horrid ! ” 

Another pause — Lucy finishes her combing, puts 
all her pretty hair in a little muslin cap, dons her 
night-dress, throws a shawl over her shoulders, and, 
still looking very thoughtful, sits down by the 
window in the cushioned recess, and Madge goes off 
into another doze. Suddenly, with a jerk, the black 
head is off the pillow once more.” 

“ Lucy ! ” 

“Well — what now?” 

“ I mean to make him fall in love with me.” 

“Who?” 

“Dr. Stuart.” 

“ I doubt it.” 

“But I shall, though!” with a sleepy defiance. 
“ The man has to be born yet that could resist me. 
I’ll make him fall in love with me, and then I’ll — 

I’ll ’’what the conqueress would do Lucy was not 

destined to learn for the closely cropped head here 
fell back on the pillow, and Madge was fast asleep 
at last. 

Peaceful and picturesque, even poetical, the old 
house and its surroundings looked in the white Juno 
moonlight, its tall trees waving, and the dim hills 
shutting it in like a green girdle. With a little 
smile on her face, Lucy Torwood sat in the broad 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


39 

window looking out while the hours of the night 
wore on. Two o’clock struck sonorously from the 
hall clock below, and Madge awakened up from her 
first sleep. 

Awakened to find herself alone, and a white 
figure, wrapped in a shawl, still sitting in the window 
and still looking out. The head was off the pillow 
for the fourth time. 

“ Lucy ! ” 

“Yes, dear. ” 

“ What o’clock is it ? Are you going to sit there 
all night ? What are you about ? ” 

Lucy got up then, threw off the shawl, and, stoop- 
ing, kissed the already closing black eyes. 

“ N^othing,” she said ; “ you have been dreaming 
with your eyes- shut, my dear, and I have been 
dreaming with mine open — that is all.” 


40 


THE SISTERS OE TORWOOD. 


CHAPTER lY. 

COMING EVENTS, ETC. 


“ Lucy ! ’’ 

At it again, dear ? What now ? ” 

“ How long have you been up ? ” 

“ Half an hour.” 

“ What time did you come to bed last night ? ” 

‘‘ I did not go to bed at all last night.” 

‘‘What!” 

“ Certainly not— it was two this morning.” 

“ My stars ! And what on earth were vou up 
to?” 

“ ^N^othing ; I did not feel sleepy, and so preferred 
sitting by the window and watching the moonlight 
to tossing restlessly in bed. Do you mean to be 
there all day ? It is after six.” 

It was a pleasant scene and hour — just the thing 
for an artist, had any eyes so sacrilegious been 
looking on. The morning sunlight came brightly 
through the open bow-window, and lay in great 
golden squares on the carpet — with it floated the 
odor of the lilac trees — purple and white — the scent 
of sweet brier, and the matin hymn of numberless 
birds. 

Lucy Torwood, looking pretty and fresh in pale 
blue muslin, with the daintiest of linen collars and 
cuffs, her fair hair combed smooth, and a bright 
morning flush on her delicate cheeks, stood before 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 4I 

the mirror putting the finishing touches to her 
toilet. Madge was still nestling among the pillows, 
her arms clasped over her head, and her black eyes 
opening and shining like two sable stars. 

“ It is after six,” Lucy repeated, pulling out her 
watch ; “ have you been bewitched ? When did 
six o’clock ever find our Madge in bed before ? ” 

“ Echo answers. When ? ” said Madge, rolling 
lazily out of bed on the floor, and beginning with 
the greatest deliberation to dress. “ Perhaps there 
is a loadstone in the house. I fell in love last night, 
didn’t I ? ” 

“ You are the best judge of that yourself, my 
dear.” 

“ Well, I don’t know — I fall in and out so often — 
it’s a way I have. Look here, Lucy, how long is 
Dr. Stuart going to stay ? ” 

‘‘ I don’t know.” 

“ What brought him here, I wonder ? ” 

“ What a question 1 To see his mother, of course.” 
‘‘ I don’t believe it. When I met McPher — beg 
pardon, Lucy — when I met the Kev. Alexander 
McPherson last evening in Torwoodtown, he looked 
uncommonly knowing when he spoke of our visitor, 
and hinted something about papa’s will making 
some one of his four daughters over to the doctor. 
The creature wouldn’t speak out plainly, but took 
snuff, and waddled off on that horrid spavined, ring- 
boned, rheumatic pony of his. What brought him to 
Torwood yesterday, anyway ? ” 

“ Madame Torwood sent for him.” 

“What for? She does not know him from 
Adam.” 


42 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


“ISTo ; she sent for him to read papa’s will.” 

What business had he reading it ? What’s in 
the will ? ” 

“ I don’t know.” 

“ I should think you had a better right to know 
than old Solemnity. Hook my dress, ^ Avill you. 
Why didn’t you ask him what was in it ? He would 
tell you anything.” 

“ Honsense ! I can’t fasten your dress if you 
keep jerking about so — be still.” 

Madge seized the hair-brush, having no hair worth 
speaking of to comb, and smoothed down her short 
locks. 

“ It’s so provoking about that will. Are we 
never going to hear it ? ” 

“ Of course we are , when the proper time comes.” 

“ And when will that be — doomsday ? ” 

‘‘Not quite so far off I hope — when Edith and 
Florence come.” 

“ And you have no idea what the Eev. and so on 
meant ? ” 

Something like a flush rose and faded on Lucy’s 
face — something like a conscious smile lighted and 
dried on her lips. 

“ I have an idea, but never mind it. Don’t trouble 
your dear silly little head with such solemn things 
as wills ; you will hear it all time enough.” 

“I hate waiting,” said Madge, testily, “and I’m 
sure you know if you only like to tell. I wonder if 
papa has divided his money equally between us four 
sisters. You ought to get the largest share, Lucy ; 
they say it was yoxijr mother’s fortune made him 
rich,” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


43 


So it was.” 

“ And our mother was as poor as that destitute 
fowl, Job’s turkey, in everything but beauty. I 
wish,” said Madge, looking at herself in the glass, 
“ she had seen fit to leave her youngest born a little 
of it. I don’t see why I’m not pretty. When nature 
was so ridiculous as to make me a girl, she might at 
least have made me a handsome one.” 

“ So she might — it’s a great pity.” 

“ There’s Florence, now,” pursued Madge, unheed- 
ing Lucy’s laughter ; when she was here two years 
ago spending her vacation, everybody went wild 
about her beauty, and she was as proud herself as a 
dog with two tails. I say it is not fair that one of 
the family should monopolize all the beauty, and the 
rest be as plain as hedge fences.” 

‘‘ My dear,” Lucy laughed, “ what are you think- 
ing of ? The rest are not as plain as hedge fences. 
I dare say Edith is pretty, and I am sure I am.” 

“Yes,” said Madge, reflectively, “you’re good- 
looking, I allow ; and I dare say I should be too, only 
I have all the talent that ever ran in the Torwood 
family, and I have always heard that beauty and 
brains never go together. But Edith, she's pretty, 
is she ? How did you find that out ? ” 

“ I have not found it out ; I merely said it was 
likely.” 

“ I don’t believe she is then ; I suspect she’s as 
black as the ace of spades in that red-hot climate. 
You never saw her, did you ? ” 

“ Hever.” 

“ I should like to see her above all things; She 
will be here shortly, won’t she ? ” 


44 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


“ Madame Torwood expects her every day.’’ 

“ What a dilemma Dr. Stuart will be in between 
us four nice girls ! I declare he’s to be pitied ! It 
reminds me of a poor bewildered fly drowning in a 
bowl of molasses. I’m pretty sure he’ll select me, 
though, I’m such a dear little thing every Avay. I 
don’t see how he can help it.” 

Lucy laughed. 

“ Little thing, and she as tall as a Maypole. Seven 
o’clock positively ! I should have been down-stairs 
half an hour ago.” 

Giving Madge’s short tresses a playful pull in 
passing. Miss Torwood tripped away “ on hospitable 
thoughts intent.” And Madge, clapping her jaunty 
straw hat very much on the side of her head and 
sticking her hands, man-fashion, in the pockets of her 
short sacque, ran down-stairs, three at a time, Avhis- 
tling shrilly one of her favorite airs, “ The Fisher’s 
Hornpipe.” The great front door was Avide open, and, 
crouching on the upper step, aAvaiting her coming, 
Avas her large hound, Sancho Panza. Madge stooped 
down and gave him a caressing pat on the head. 

“ Good-morning, old fellow ; hoAv do you And your- 
self to-day ? All ready for your constitutional, eh ? 
Come on then.” 

If early to bed and early to rise have the good 
effect that that solemn and stupid old gentleman, 
poor Pichard, says. Miss Madge Torwood should 
have been the healthiest, Avealthiest, and Avisest young 
lady in Maryland, for that early bird, the lark, Avas 
generally routed out of his cozy nest at some gray 
and dismal hour of the early morning, by her spring- 
ing from rock to rock, singing at the top of a pair 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 45 

of powerful lungs, and Sancho at her heels. Healthy, 
she certainly was ; no one knew her to be ill a day 
in her life ; wealth was rather more doubtful — it de- 
pended altogether on that mysterious will of papa’s 
— and wise, was most doubtful of all ; her worst 
enemy could not accuse her of wisdom. 

Over the rocky hillsides she flew now, springing 
from jag to jag like a young deer, with the tune 
still on her lips. 

As the clock in the Episcopal Church in Torwood- 
town struck the hour of eight, and the calls of hunger 
began to be clamorous, she turned to retrace her 
steps in the same bounding style, loudly chanting 
the fag-end of some old Scotch ballad. 

“Laud’s the larrock’s note and lang, 

Lilting wildly up the glen, 

But still to me it sings ae sang, 

Will ye no come back again.” 

“ Yes, here I am ! ” a voice answered, and spring- 
ing up from the long grass on which he had been 
stretched, book in hand, Dr. Stuart confronted her. 

“ Law ! ” said Madge, “ you here ? Who’d have 
thought it ? ” 

“ Any one with common sense. Do you suppose 
no one but Miss Madge Torwcod knows the benefit 
of early rising ? ” 

“ I don’t ])retend to have common sense ; it’s a 
thing I despise ; but if I did possess it, I should 
hope it would teach me better than lying down 
lazily to read such a morning as this. Look at that 
sky, azure and snow on fire, with little pin clouds all 
through it ; look at the lights and shadows going 
mad on the bay ; look at these rosy clouds of laurel 


46 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

climbing up the rocks. Oh, that I were an artist ! 
I could paint a picture this morning that would set 
the world on fire, or write a poem which would 
make me famous for life.” 

What, on me ? ” 

“ No, a sheet of paper if I had it. Are you 
hungry ? If not I am, and 1 am going home to 
breakfast ; Lucy’s muffins are particularly nice, and 
her coffee — heavenly ! ” 

Dr. Stuart sprang up, laughing. 

“ ‘ Oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! ’ 
from painting and poetry to muffins and coffee. 
Still the difference is not so great, after all, for those 
ideal fellows, poets, painters, authors, and artists of 
all sorts, are quite as sensible of the blessings of 
muffins and coffee, and the other creature comforts 
of this life as the most prosaic chaw-bacon in Mary- 
land.” 

Precious fools they would be if they weren’t. 
My belief is that the best part of one’s life is what 
they spend in sleeping and eating. The world’s no 
trouble to one, then.” 

“ Trouble ! I should think all you knew of trouble 
is that it is a word of two syllables.” 

“ That shows how easily even the wisest of men 
may be mistaken,” said Madge, who, all the time she 
had been talking, was bounding lightly from rock 
to rock, while the tall doctor measured off the 
ground with tremendous sweep of limb. “ I’ve had 
the heaviest sort of miseries in my time — silent sor- 
rows and all that sort of thing — till I have pined 
away to a mere skeleton. You might have noticed 
J am as thin as a sheet of paper.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 47 

“ So you are — almost transparent ! May I ask 
how so sad a state of things came about ? ” 

“ Well there was, or rather is, fori am a continual 
sufferer, a conglomeration of circumstances. I am 
not as good-looking as Lucy, and that worries me ; 
my beaux — and I have about three dozen, such as 
they are — have a way of dropping off one by one, 
after I have gone and splashed m.y heart's best 
affections, and so on, upon them, and. marrying 
somebody else. Mr. McPherson, the only man I 
ever really was in love with, calls me a vessel of 
wrath, a mystery of iniquity, and other hard names 
of that sort, and couldn’t be paid to touch me with 
a pair of tongs. Then I’m a girl, the last, unkindest 
cut of all ; and Captain Marryatt, the only author I 
ever did care about, had to go and die, and conse- 
quently won’t write any more, and — but where’s the 
good of going on ? I’m a persecuted but patient 
saint, and I’ve come to the conclusion that this 
world is all a fleeting show, not worth looking at, 
and you needn’t be astonished if, some day, you hear 
of me joining those ‘ Sisters of Charity ’ over in 
Torwoodtown — that is,” said the young lady upon 
second thought, “ if they’ll consent to my wearing 
gay garments, and decent looking Christian bonnets 
instead of black stuff coal-scuttles. I don’t believe 
there’s any religion in going about the world a 
figure and a dowdy, and a mark for the finger of 
scorn to poke fun at. Here we are at the house, 
and there is Lucy at the dining-room window, and 
I feel voracious enough to eat a Quaker’s grand- 
mother, body and bones.” 

“ Tough picking,” laughed Dr. Stuart, following 


48 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

the spirited speaker of this tirade up the wide stairs 
to the dining-room. Lucy turned from the Avindow 
as the pair came in. 

“ Good-morning, Dr. Stuart ; I thought you and 
Madge had run away together. It is half-past 
nine.” 

“ Sorry to have kept you waiting, Miss Torwood ; 
but I assure you Ave let no grass groAV under our 
feet. Is my mother not doAvn ? ” 

. “ Madame TorAvood ahvays breakfasts in her 
room, her maid says, about half-past eleven. I sup- 
pose she Avill hardly be doAAm before luncheon ; but 
you tAVO must be hungry after your long Avalk in 
the breezy morning air.” 

“We are^’’ said Madge, flinging her hat in one 
corner, her sacque in another, and taking her place 
Avith alacrity at the table. “ My performance is 
ahvays good, but on the present occasion it is going 
to be absolutely terrifying. Dr. Stuart, let me help 
you to eggs — try these muffins — your coffee is sub- 
lime this morning, Lucy — I told the doctor it Avould 
be.” 

“ Miss Torwood does everything Avell, I think,” 
Dr. Stuart said graA^ely, and Lucy laughed and 
blushed. 

“ Madge is such a chatterbox ; but she does not 
mean half she says. Were you at TorAvoodtoAvn, 
this morning ? ” 

“ 'Not so far,” said the doctor ; “ but I should like 
to go if you two young ladies Avill do me the honor 
to drwe over with me.” 

Lucy held up her bunch of housekeeping keys 
and gave them a shake. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 49 

“ How can you dream of such a thing ? You 
forget what a busy character I am ; but Madge will 
go.” 

“ To be sure I will,” said Madge, “ but I won’t 
drive. I despise driving, and leave it to weak- 
minded young ladies like Lucy. I’ll ride -with you, 
though, with all the pleasure in life.” 

If Dr. Stuart has any regard for his neck he 
won’t ride with you,” said Lucy. “ You and 
Rozinante will come to grief some day by breaking 
every bone in your bodies. Madge is always a 
little crazy, but she goes positively wild on horse- 
back.” 

“ I don’t mind risking my neck in a good cause,” 
said Dr. Stuart as they arose, but I regret you 
cannot join us. Miss Torwood. Can you not take a 
holiday ? ” 

‘‘ Not possible : besides ” 

“Besides, I wouldn’t for any earthly consideration 
ride with Lucy,” cut in Madge, “or rather crawl 
along as she does, scared into fits if her horse takes 
one of his steps longer than another; and, besides, I 
consider one lady as much as any one gentleman 
can properly attend to at once ; so. Dr. Stuart, if 
you coax Lucy to come, I respectfully beg leave to 
resign.” 

“ An alternative too terrible to think of. Be off 
then and dress — D’f it were done when ’tis done, 
then ’twere well it were done quickly.’ I shall go 
and have the horses around in a trice.” 

It never took Madge long to make her toilet ; in 
fifteen minutes she was standing on the topmost 
step of the outer stairs^ her riding-hat one side of 
4 


50 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


her boyish head, her long riding-skirt gathered up 
in one hand, her whip flourishing in the other, while 
with a critical eye she watched the sable groom 
leading up the horse. 

I^ow, then,” said Dr. Stuart, when all was ready, 
holding out his hand, “ mount.” 

Madge laid her exquisitely-booted foot in his ex- 
tended palm, and sprang lightly into the saddle. 

“ Mount yourself, now,” she said, taking up the 
reins. “ Be quiet, Bozinante ! Good-by, Lucy. If 
we are not back in a fortnight we’ll write ! ” 

Lucy, standing in the doorway, laughed, and 
watched them galloping off, and when they were 
quite out of sight, returned to her domestic duties. 
If any regret at losing the glorious summer day 
lingered in her breast, her placid face did not show 
it, and Madame Torwood, coming down-stairs at 
half-past twelve, found her sitting at the drawing- 
room window, sewing away diligently with a great 
basket full of gray cotton before her. 

“ Good morning, my dear,” she said, casting a 
curious eye at the unattractive work. “ How indus- 
trious you are. What is it all about ? ” 

Lucy held up a garment she was making, with a 
little blush. 

“ Plain clothes for some poor children in Tor- 
woodtown. I cannot do fancy work, and I like to 
be busy at something.” 

“ Oh ! ” said madam, rather contemptuously. 
“ Where are the rest ? ” 

“Dr. Stuart and Madge have gone out riding, 
and will hardly be back before dinner.” 

Lucy’s e^ms bending over her work, did not 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 5 1 

notice the frown that settled darkly over the lady’s 
face. 

“ Why did you not go too ? ” she sharply inquired. 

“ I was too busy, madam.” 

“Nonsense! You should have gone and left 
that ridiculous work to the seamstress. Younir 
ladies are not in the habit of cooping themselves up 
and working themselves to death for beggar chil- 
dren. Charity is all very well, but there is such a 
thing as carrying it too far. I would have been 
much better pleased had you gone out riding this 
morning.” 

With which tirade madam sat down, jerked some 
crochet work out of her pocket, and relapsed into 
silence and the arms of an easy-chair. Lucy said 
nothing, only she lifted her blue eyes in quiet 
surprise, and when she lowered them again the pink 
tinge on her cheek was deepened. 

It was dinner hour and after when the equestrians 
returned, and Madge flashed into the drawing-room, 
her twin cheeks flushed, her eyes dancing, her 
whole spirited face elate and glowing with the ex- 
citement of the ride, and looking for the moment 
more than pretty. Dr. Stuart came after her, and 
stood, hat in hand, in the doorway. 

“ Twenty minutes late,” said his mother, pulling 
out her watch, “ and I detest being kept waiting. 
I give you both ten minutes to dress for dinner. If 
you are not ready, then, we will wait no longer.” 

“ Short notice,” said he, “ but it will suflice. It 
never takes pretty people like you and me, Madge, 
long to dress.” 

“ And whichever is ready first will come and 


52 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


help the other,” Madge cried, as she ran iip-stairs, 
and darted into her own room. 

Dinner was not so pleasant a meal as breakfast 
had been, for Madame Tor wood sat like a petrifac- 
tion in black satin and jewelry, and froze every 
attempt at sociability at its dawn. Even Madge 
was, for the time being, quenched, and ate her peas, 
and carved her pastry with a pensive and preoccu- 
pied air. It was a relief when the tiresome meal 
was over, and the great lady took to dozing over 
her crochet. 

Madge went out to seek recreation with Sancho 
and Kozin ante and the gossip of the kitchen ; Lucy 
resumed her seat at the window and her very plain 
sewing ; and the doctor, drawing the ears of a 
little black and tan terrier through his fingers, 
sat thoughtfully watching with half-closed eyes. 
Through the window at which Lucy sat he could 
see the dying day fading grayly out in blue haze, 
the moon rising crimson and full, the evening star 
gleaming in its pale beauty, and the trees as they 
murmured faintly in the low breeze from the bay. 
The cry of the katy did and whip-poor-will, plaintive 
and sweet, came floating through the open casement, 
and with it floated in the evening incense of jas- 
mine, southern- wood and sweet-brier. Through the 
opposite window he could see the blue sea creeping 
in over the flat gray shore, with a grayer sky over- 
head, and the white sails of boats dotting it here 
and there like fallen snowflakes. 

It was all very peaceful and very pretty, but 
nothing was prettier than the quiet girlish figure in 
black barege, with the fair hair combed smoothly 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 53 

off the fair face, the blue eyes drooping over her 
work, the white fingers deftly plying the glistening 
needle, and so Dr. Stuart seemed to think, for his 
eyes wandered oftener, and dwelt much longer at 
that window than at the other. They had sat quite 
silent for upward of half an hour ; it was the doctor’s 
caprice, perhaps, and decidedly Lucy’s forte, and the 
gray gloaming was fast deepening into misty night 
when he leaned forward and spoke. 

“ Have you been in the house all day ? ” 

‘‘ Yes — all day.” 

“ Sewing like that ? ” 

“ Sewing like this.” 

“ You will kill yourself. I am a doctor and won’t 
allow it. Go instantly, put on your hat, and come 
to the garden for a walk.” 

She laughed, blushed, and hesitated. 

Go,” he said, peremptorily, “ physicians are not 
to be refused. I intend taking you under my sov- 
ereign jurisdiction and making you go out every day. 
Go ! ” 

She dropped her work, but still hesitated. A 
dozing head was lifted from a distant arm-chair, and 
a gracious voice struck in : 

“Certainly, my dear, go out for a walk. The 
evening is fine, and it will do you good.” 

Lucy arose instantly, took her hat, which hung in 
the hall, and, followed by the doctor, went into the 
hazy summer evening. They took the road leading 
down to the water, and watched, as they walked 
up and down, the children playing in the warm sands, 
an{l the waves crawling up with a dull, low roar. 
The old house and everything around it looked 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


54 

peaceful and at rest, and the two quiet figures walk- 
ing up and down under the green trees were in 
keeping with its calm. Dr. Stuart took off his hat 
and bared his head to the cool sea air. ‘‘ It is good 
to be here,” he said; Torwood Towers is an en- 
chanted spot. Miss Lucj. I envy you your home.” 

Some inward thought flushed the young lady’s 
tranquil face hotly for a moment, and her voice was 
slightly tremulous, though her words were trite 
enough. 

“ Yes, it is a pretty place in summer, but too quiet 
some think. It has never seemed so to me.” 

“ Its quiet will soon be broken now, I fancy. Are 
not your two sisters expected soon ? ” 

‘‘Very soon now. Edith we expect to-morrow ; 
Florence before the end of the week.” 

‘‘ You have seen them of course ? ” 

Florence, yes ; she was here two years ago, 
spending her vacation ; the last she spent with some 
friends in New York. Edith I have never seen.” 

“Indeed ? ” he said, inquiringly. 

“ She was born in Cuba and has lived there all her 
life. She will be quite a stranger to us all.” 

“ You and your 3^oungest sister are very much 
unlike. "Which does Florence resemble ? ” 

“ Neither,” she said, with simplicity ; “ Florence 
is beautiful ! ” 

He looked at her with an odd smile. 

“ If you were like other young ladies. Miss Tor- 
wood, I should think you were angling for a compli- 
ment, but I know you better. If you were like other 
young ladies I might pa}^ you one with perfect truth, 
but as it is ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


55 


He broke short olf, and began rooting up some 
pansies in his way with a cane he carried, watching 
the work of destruction intently. He did not even 
look up when he spoke again, so the rosy light in 
Lucy’s face was unseen. 

‘‘You are blonde, Madge is a brunette ; which is 
Florence ? ” 

“ Blonde. It has been said that Florence and I 
are Torwoods — Madge and Edith Tristas, their 
mother’s name.” 

“ Edith, then, is dark ? ” 

“ So I suppose. I long for to-morrow to see her.” 

The queer smile was on the doctor’s face again ; 
it always was there when he spoke of Florence. A 
bed of cinnamon roses was in their way. With that 
doubtful smile still on his face, he plucked a half- 
blown bud and handed it to Lucy. 

“ Do you understand the language of flowers ? ” 
he asked, looking at her. 

All gentlemen ask that question, but Lucy un- 
derstand, and blushed vividly. 

A pair of black eyes, glancing through the shrub- 
bery, as their owner tramped over late reeds and 
green vines, with her dog Sancho after her, saw the 
action, the blush too, and a shrill voice broke out 
into song : 

‘ ‘ There were three little women, 

Each fair in the face. 

And their laughter with music 
Filled all the green place, 

As they sat knitting talk 
With the threads of their lace. 

Of the wind in the tree-tops, 

Tlie flowers in the glen. 


56 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


The birds, the brown robin, 

The wood-dove, the wren ; 

They talked, but their thoughts 
Were of three little men. 

The sea lay before them, 

With ships going by, 

Behind them the hills shone. 

So grand and so high. 

And above them blue, beautiful 
Patches of sky ! ” 

Dr. Stuart laughed. 

“ They talked, but their thoughts 
Were of three little men, ” 

he quoted. “ How much more human nature, female 
human nature, there is in that line.” 

“ Madge is always absurd,” Lucy said, swinging 
her rose carelessly in her finger-tips. “ It is getting 
late ; suppose we go in.” 

“ On one condition, that you will sing for me 
again these pleasant old ballads of yours.” 

“ They are not worth listening to ; but if you wish 
it, with pleasure.” 

Another pair of eyes watched them coming to- 
gether to the house, and Madame Torwood, standing 
at the window, smiled complacently to herself. 

‘‘ I shall succeed, after all,” she said, confidently 
to herself and the window curtains. Paul will not 
find it so hard to comply with Judge Torwood’s last 
will and testament, I think, and my son will be 
master here.” 

The evening ’was genial and homelike. Lucy, at 
the piano, sang ; Dr. Stuart turned the leaves of her 
music ; Madge was absorbed in a new novel, and 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 57 

Madame Torwood dozed with one eye open, and drew 
her own conclusions. 

“ Yes,” she said to her pillow that night, ‘‘ she is 
an insipid little nobody, with no mind ; but she has 
a pretty face, and Paul is only mortal, so I think it 
will be a match after all.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


5 ^ 


CHAPTER y. 

EDITH. 

Torwoodtown, wliicli, by the way, was much more 
of an exaggerated village than a town at all, con- 
sisted of one long, straggling street, of queer-looking 
houses, with gardens in front full of piirple-and- 
white lilac trees, rose bushes, and sweet-brier vines, 
making the summer air fragrant as you walked 
along. The straggling row of queer houses front(‘d 
the ceaseless sea ; its moan was in your ear, its 
saline freshness in your lungs, its cold spray in j^our 
face, its fresh and bracing breezes cooling your 
brow wherever you went through Torwoodtown. 
There was a battery and a breakwater, a dry-dock 
and a wharf, where a steamer from Baltimore came 
every week, and the fishing boats were drawn up 
in rows on the shore. 

The place had derived its ambitious name from 
the late Judge Torwood, who, coming there when a 
very young man, had pompously named the dirty 
little fishing village after himself ; and as the in- 
habitants had never taken the pains to re-christen it, 
and wandering map-makers passed it over in grand, 
silent disdain, Torwoodtown it continued to be called. 
For all the wandering map-makers’ contempt, it 
was a flourishing little place, with its dry-goods 
and grocery shops — stores even their ambitious 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


59 


proprietors dared not name them — its post-office, 
its school-house, its lecture-hall, its hotel, and its 
Episcopal, Catholic, Methodist, and Presbyterian 
churches. 

This last establishment, under the ghostly care 
of the Rev. Alexander McPherson, stood midway 
down the straggling street, and was a dreary look- 
ing wooden edifice, painted outside a dismal and 
dingy brown, and was inside a dreary Sahara of 
empty benches, with a pulpit like an overgrown 
wine-glass. An equally dreary and dingy structure 
was the house adjoining, with prim poplars in the 
garden, and green paper blinds on the sulky win- 
dows, and an inhospitable front door that never 
stood open to the summer air. 

Entering this front door you were in a long grim 
hall, that ended abruptly in a steep staircase, like 
the hall, carpetless. Some absurd people have a 
ridiculous fancy for adorning their entrance hall 
with pictures and statues. This particular one was 
adorned, with rows of wooden pegs, from which 
hung overcoats, caps, hats, and umbrellas, and sun- 
dry other useful articles of wearing apparel, mak- 
ing the place serve for wardrobe and hall together. 
A brown door with a brass knob was on either hand. 
Opening the one to the left, you precipitated your- 
self with exquisite unexpectedness into a not over 
clean and very hot kitchen, where there was an 
odor of onions and dinner all day long. Opening 
the door to the right, you were in the parlor, re- 
ception-room, drawing-room, dining-room, and li- 
brary of the mansion, for it was all in one. The 
uncarpeted floor was painted a jaundiced yellow, 


6o 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


tlie cane-seated chairs, six in number, were ranged 
stiffly against the gloomy paper-hangings, in the 
same spot to an inch on which they had stood ever 
since they were chairs. 

A square table with a limp and dejected table- 
cloth of sad colors, stood in the center of the 
painted floor, which was so slippery that it was a 
trial to persons of weak nerves to navigate througli 
it. There were books on the table, a number of 
them — books on long rows of shelves, solemn and 
formidable looking books, of plethoric fulness, that 
none but strong-minded people could have con- 
templated with comfort even reposing on their 
shelves. 

The ornamentations of the apartment consisted 
of two large oil paintings in very dirty fly-spotted 
and discolored gift frames, one of that grim and 
uncompromising old Presbyterian, John Knox, op- 
posite a portrait of the late lamented George 
Washington, in a highly colored complexion, a 
gorgeous uniform, and a big wig. The whole as- 
pect of the place was of an intensely grave and 
gloomy order, and in strict keeping with it was the 
aspect of the gentleman sitting in one of the six 
cane-seated chairs by the window, spectacles on 
nose, deeply absorbed in the columns of the Scottish 
Observer. 

The gentleman was near-sighted, and his nose 
and the type were almost meeting, so he did not 
notice the approach of a visitor until a thundering 
postman’s rat-tat-tat, given with the end of a rid- 
ing-whip, made him fairly bound with its noise and 
suddenness out of his chair, Before he could go tg 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 6l 

the door it was opened, and a slight girlish figure 
in a dark -green riding-habit with brass buttons, a 
black hat set on one side of its head, the short, 
back hair streaming in disorder, the round, boyish 
forehead, the black eyes sparkling, the thin, dark 
face, luminous and glowing, stood in the doorway 
like a picture in a frame. 

“ Good morning, Mr. Mac ! ” the new comer said 
in a shrill, treble voice; ‘‘ here I am, all alive, like 
a bag of grasshoppers ! I’ve been riding away out 
about ten miles from here, and coming back it 
struck me it might be near your luncheon hour, so 
I thought I would drop in and make you a neigh- 
borly call. Am I too late or too early ? ” 

“ For what. Miss Madge ? ” inquired Mr. McPher- 
son, folding his paper and taking snuff. He always 
fortified himself with that refreshment when he 
encountered the youngest Miss Torwood. 

“ Your lunch, of course.” 

“ I never take lunch.” 

“ Don’t you ? that’s a pity. What do you take 
then ; I suppose you don’t fast all day ? ” 

“ 1 take dinner.” 

‘‘ Well, that will do — it’s all the same in Greek. 
At what hour do you generally go through the per- 
formance ? ” 

“ Two o’clock.” 

“ And it wants a quarter of two now,” said 
Madge, looking at her watch ; “ and here comes 
your old lady to lay the cloth. That’s beautiful, 
ilow d’ye do, Mrs. Grant? How’s your rheumatism 
to-day ? ” 

The old housekeeper dropped a courtesy. 


62 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


pretty bad, Miss Madge, thanky. How’s 
your pretty sister ? ” 

“ Oh, she’s jolly ! And that’s what’s been tor- 
menting me so, Mr. McPherson ; for the last day or 
two she’s been a great deal too jolly ; and if you 
don’t come and look after her shortly, you’re 
dished.” 

Mr. McPherson took snuff again. 

“ I don’t think I quite understand what being 
dished means. Will you be kind enough to explain. 
Miss Madge ? ” 

“Why, it’s as clear as mud. It means your 
cake’s dough ; that you’re being cut out : in short, 
that our dear step-brother. Dr. Stuart, is going in 
to win.” 

“ Humph ! ” said Mr. McPherson, with infinite 
composure ; “ that reminds me. Miss Madge — how 
do you like your new step-brother ? ” 

“ Dying about him. I am, ’pon my word. He’s 
all my fancy painted him, you know ; he’s lovely, 
he’s divine ; but his heart it is Miss Torwood’s, and 
it never can be mine. That is, I’m dreadfully afraid 
it can’t ; though what anybody can see in her when 
7’m to the fore is more than I can imagine. Lucy’s 
as good a little soul as ever lived ; but, then, she’s 
as weak as dishwater.” 

“ And so Dr. Stuart is attentive to her ? Draw 
in your chair. Miss Madge, and partake of my hum- 
ble meal.” 

“ Taken the greatest shine to her ever you saw,” 
said Madge, drawing in her chair promptly and 
helping herself; “gives her rosebuds and all that 
sort of thing ; and when it comes to that a man’s 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 63 

pretty far gone. You see, I’ve had no end of ex- 
perience with the creatures,” 

“ And your step-mother looks on and approves, I 
suppose ? ” 

“ Approve ! I guess so. She’s as bland as sweet 
oil, as sweet over it as a whole cartload of summer 
cherries. And that’s where the puzzle comes in — • 
I’ll trouble you to pass the beans, please — the lady 
is so haughty, bristling with pride in every pore, 
that I ^m amazed she thinks anything less than a 
princess good enough for her Paul — her only one ! 
But she’s quite content with Lucy ; your humble 
servant she wouldn’t touch with a pair of tongs.” 

Is it possible ? ” 

“ Bad taste, but true as gospel. However, don’t 
be uneasy, Mr. McPherson ” (Mr. McPherson all the 
while eating his dinner with the most complacent 
of faces) ; “ I am mot so sure that you have lost 
Lucy after all. I should like to see her Mrs. Mac 
of all things. She is just the cut for a minister’s 
wife — takes to darning stockings and mending old 
clothes as naturally as if she were one now.” 

‘‘ Let me help you to some more gravy. Miss 
Madge? And so you think I am not altogether 
dished yet ? What are your reasons for thinking 
so? You always have reasons for your opinions, I 
know.” 

To be sure ; I admire logic beyond everything ; 
and, then when that uncommon article, common- 
sense, was being distributed, I came in for about 
double the usual share. My reasons are, that there 
are two more Miss Tor woods coming, one this very 
day, and the other before the end of the week, and 


64 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

both will be sure to make a dead set at him, and 
undermine Lucy if they can.” 

“ Miss Madge, you are a little severe, are you not ? 
Do you judge your sisters by yourself ? ” 

Miss Madge laid down her knife and fork, and 
looked with some severity across the table at her 
host. 

“ Mr. McPherson, I shall feel obliged to you not 
to insinuate things. If I wanted Dr. Paul Stuart, 
you don’t suppose there is anything living, and 
breathing, and existing in petticoats that could 
prevent me from having him. Do you, sir ? The 
idea is beneath contempt. What I mean to say is, 
that two women in one house, and two cats over 
one mouse, never agree ; and what it is to be with 
four cats in the house, and only one poor, helpless 
mouse between them, I dare not imagine. Dr. 
Stuart is to be pitied ; for what can he do against 
four young ladies, all badly in want of husbands ? ” 
‘‘ Yourself among the number ? ” 

“ Certainly ; no girl ever reached the age of four- 
teen without wanting to be married. Oh, here 
comes the stage. I wonder if there are any pas- 
sengers.” 

Without ceremony. Miss Madge jumped up from 
the table and ran to the Avindow. The stage-coach, 
a lumbering old vehicle, built much upon the style 
of Noah’s ark, drew up before the TorwoodtoAvn 
Hotel with a great clatter and commotion. Yes, 
there were passengers — two, a lad}^ and a gentle- 
man ; the former tall, slender, and evidently youth- 
ful, though her face Avas hidden by a thick, black 
veil, dressed in deep mourning ; the latter rather 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 65 

foreign-looking, not tall, swarthy as a Spaniard, with 
jetty hair and mustache. The lady took his arm 
and passed with him into the hotel and out of 
Madge Tor wood’s curious sight. 

‘‘Well, they are gone, whoever they are, and I 
think it is time I was following their example. I’ve 
got lots of places to go to, so it will be near dinner 
hour when I get home, and my lady raises no end 
of a row if one keeps dinner waiting half a second. 
When are you coming over to Torwood ? ” 

“ Can’t say. Madame Torwood gave me a hint 
to keep away until sent for ; had I not better take 
it?” 

“ I wouldn’t if I were you. I should come and 
keep my eye on Lucy ; but of course, it’s a free 
country, and Mr. McPherson can please himself. If 
Rozinante and Sancho are not tired waiting, they 
beat Job hollow, so I’m off. By-by.” 

Kissing her hand to him, and nodding familiarly, 
Madge pirouetted to the door, and was off like a 
flash, banging the front door after her until the 
house shook. The next instant he saw her flying 
past on Rozinante, her riding-dress streaming in the 
sea wind, and Sancho bounding furiously after her. 
Mr. McPherson gave his snuff-box a sharp rap, and 
took an immensely huge pinch to compose his nerves 
after the stimulating visit, and with a grim smile 
dawning on his face, took up the Scottish Observer 
and his seat by the window again. 

“ A smart little girl that,” was his thought, “ and 
there is sense in her nonsense, too. I think I shall 
go back to Torwood and look after Lucy before 
long.” 

5 


66 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


Miss Madge Tor wood proved herself a prophetess 
in saying it would be near dinner hour when she 
got home. It wanted just fifteen minutes of that 
important hour when she flew singing up-stairs, and 
came bouncing into Lucy’s room, carrying the fresh 
sea and hillside breezes in every fold of her flow- 
ing dress. Lucy was standing before the mirror, 
making herself look pretty for dinner, and turned 
a face as fresh as the half-brown rose on her dress- 
ing-table to her wild, younger sister. It was the 
rose Dr. Stuart had given her last night in the shrub- 
bery, and Madge pursed up her lips at sight of it. 
It was the first time that day she had seen Lucy 
alone, and seizing the rose now, she began inhal- 
ing its fragrance in very loud and exaggerated 
sniffs. 

“ ^ My love is like the red, red rose that’s newly 
sprung in June ; ’ he is also Mike a melody that’s 
sweetly played in tune ! ’ I say, Lucy, you and our 
young friend, the doctor, put in a long stitch of 
courting last night, didn’t you ? ” 

Oh Madge ! ” Lucy cried, her whole face turn- 
ing crimson, and shocked beyond expression at this 
rather coarse way of stating things. Madge sat 
down on the edge of the bed, and eyed her much 
as a merciless dentist does a patient whose double 
teeth he is bound to haul out in spite of any amount 
of agony. 

“ It was very like it, though, wasn’t it ? Did he 
really make love to you ? What did he say ? ” 

“ Ob, Madge how can you ? ” 

“ What am I doing ? ” said Madge, testily. ‘‘ You 
might tell me, I think. Did he say, ‘ Beloved of 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 67 

my soul ? ’ — that’s the way Lord Mortimer used to 
put it in that lachrymose book, ‘ The Children of 
the Abbey. ’ ” 

“ Madge, dress for dinner— you’ll be late,” Lucy 
said, trying to laugh, while her cheeks were scar- 
let. Where have you been all day ? ” 

“Over the country. What were you and the 
doctor about ? Making eyes at each other all the 
morning ? ” 

“ Good-by— make haste— there’s the five-minutes 
bell,” said Lucy, moving precipitately to the 
door. 

“I saw Mr. McPherson this morning and he’s 
going staring mad with jealousy,” Madge called 
after her. “ He consumed something less than a 

pound of snuff during the time I was there, and ” 

but Lucy was down-stairs, and out of hearing, so 
Madge brought her little work of fiction to an ab- 
rupt end, and began rapidly exchanging the riding- 
habit of Amazon life for the more subdued habili- 
ments of the dinner-table. Ten minutes sufficed at 
any time for Madge to make her toilet, and at the 
end of that time she came flying down-stairs and 
out on the front piazza, where Madame Torwood, 
Dr. Stuart, and Lucy stood. A plain black buggy, 
bearing the inscription, “ Torwoodtown Hotel,” on 
its side, was coming down the high-road between 
the hills, while a cart followed laden with trunks, 
imperials, valises, and bonnet-boxes. A lady and a 
gentleman sat in the buggy, the gentleman, dark- 
mustached, and foreign-looking, the lady clad in 
mourning and closely veiled. Madge uttered an ex- 
clamation as she saw them ; 


68 


The sisters of torwood. 


“ Law ! I declare if it’s not the pair I saw leav- 
ing the . stage in Torwoodtown. I say, Lucy, I’ll 
bet you anything it’s Edith.” 

Lucy’s high color had faded away, and she was 
unusually pale and quiet as she watched the new 
arrival. 

‘‘ I think it must be,’^ she said ; “ but who is the 
gentleman ? ” 

‘‘I never heard that Edith Avas married,” said 
Madge ; “ but she appears to be on mighty free and 
easy terms with his gentleman. See how confid- 
ingly she leans on his arm, and what a black-look- 
ing Avhiskerando he is, with as much hair about his 
face as if he were a Chimpanzee monkey.” 

The veiled lady certainly did lean confidingly on 
her companion’s arm, from fatigue, perhaps, for she 
toiled rather wearily up the steps. Madame Tor- 
Avood, very stately, in black satin, gold chain, and 
diamond brooch advanced Avith the air of a dow- 
ager duchess, and the dark gentleman took off his 
hat and addressed her. 

Madame Torwood, I presume ? ” 

Madame Torwood boAved in cold silence. 

‘‘ Allow me then to present your step-daughter 
from Cuba, Miss Edith Torwood.” 

It Avas she, then ! Whilst the gentleman spoke 
the lady threAv back her veil, and they all saAv that 
the second Miss TorvA^ood Avas not pretty. So far 
from it, indeed, that Madge’s iuAvard exclamation 
had been, “ Hoav ugly she is ! ” but, then. Miss 
Madge was apt to jump at conclusions. IN’ot ugl}^, 
certainly, but at once plain-looking and proud-look- 
ing, with a sallow complexion, a forehead so broad 


THE SISTERS OP TORWOOD. 69 

aiid high as to be almost masculine, arched, black 
brows, shading a pair of powerful, dark gray eyes 
and the characteristic mouth of the Torwoods — a 
feature that was alike in all, and was really pretty, 
though there were certain firm and decided lines 
about this young lady’s that certainly were want' 
ing in Lucy and Madge. 

Madame Tor wood held out her hands, and Miss 
Edith laid her delicate, black-kidded fingers lightly 
therein, with a steadfast look out of the gray eyes, 
but no smile round her pretty mouth. 

“ My dear, I am glad to see you, and to welcome 
you to your ancestral home. These are your sisters, 
Lucy and Margaret.” 

It is a very vulgar thing to show emotion, or 
make a scene about anything in this commonplace 
world. Perhaps the new Miss Torwood was too 
high-bred for anything so plebeian as feeling, or 
perhaps her nature was very undemonstrative, for 
the kidded fingers were held out to Lucy and Mar- 
garet with the same quiet composure they had been 
given to her step-mother. Perhaps, too, there was 
nothing to wonder at in this grave quietude — they 
were her sisters, it is true, but then she had never 
seen them before, and very likely when she left 
Torwood Towers would never see them again. 
Madame Torwood, who had a masculine horror of 
scenes, drew a long breath of relief, and really 
began to admire the new-comer. But Madge 
touched the black-kidded fingers as if they were 
red hot, and dropped them in disgust a second 
after. 

“ A black iceberg ! Lot’s wife in crape and silk. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


70 

I shall hate the very sight of her, I know,’’ she said, 
turning, with a grimace, to Dr. Stuart, who stood 
quietly in the background looking on. 

A smile, and a w^arningly lifted finger, was his 
answer, and Madge, shrugging her shoulders im- 
patiently, began humming a tune and beating the 
devil’s tattoo vdth her feet. 

“ And this gentleman ? ” Madame Torwood in- 
quiringly began, looking at the dark stranger, hat 
in hand. 

“ Is my cousin, Mr. Angus Torwood, in whose 
charge I have come from Cuba.” 

It was the first time she had spoken, and her 
voice was like Lucy’s, sweet and clear, deeper per- 
haps, and with a strong foreign accent, that gave 
a charm of its own to every word. 

‘‘ I did not know you had a cousin of that name,” 
madam said, loftily returning the stranger’s equally 
haughty bow. 

“ My father and his were first cousins, but they 
had not met since their youth.” 

I am much obliged to you for your care of my 
step-daughter, sir. You will stay and dine with us ; 
dinner is waiting.” 

Anything colder than this polite invitation human 
lips could not have expressed. The dark stranger 
drew himself haughtily up. 

“Your thanks are not needed, madam,” he said 
pointedly ; “ permit me to decline your invitation. 
Edith,” he leaned forward, and said something rap- 
idly in Spanish. 

A fiery light had leaped like a tongue of flame 
into the gray eyes ; two red spots, like hot jets of 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 71 

blood, burned in the sallow cheeks ; the dark, still, 
proud face was in an instant brightly fierce. 

So thought Madge, Avatching her. 

‘‘ Our iceberg is a spitfire, too. Oh, they’re a pre- 
cious pair, I know.” 

“ Come back to-morrow, Angus,” she called after 
him in English, as he went slowly down-stairs.. 
“ Come back to-morrow and see me ! Until then, 
adieu.” 

She Avaved her hand to him as he passed from 
sight. Madame Tor wood SAvept past Avith a stormy 
rustling of satin to the dining-room, and the rest fol- 
io AA^ed. 

“ You will dine Avith us, Edith,” Lucy softly said, 
as she came in last. 

“ No ; I dine at the hotel. Be kind enough to let 
the ser A^ant shoAV me to my room, and have my trunks 
sent up.” 

“ I Avill shoAV you the Avay myself. I had the 
room that used to be your mother’s boudoir fitted 
up for you.” 

The angry light in the proud gray eyes softened ; 
the irate and haughty face grcAV subdued. 

“You are very kind,” she simply said. “Is this 
it ! Don’t let me detain you. Good-afternoon.” 

The door closed in Lucy’s face, and she went back 
bo the dining-room. The three faces round the table 
were a study — madam’s, so grandly displeased ; the 
doctor’s, so silently roguish and amused ; and Madge’s 
ill repressed impatience and indignation. 

“ Such a pair,” cried Madge, shrilly. “ As black 
as the ace of spades both of them, as ugly as sin, and 
as proud as pigs Avith rings through their noses ! ” 


the sisters of torwood. 

(Where Madge ever got her similes was the constant 
wonder of all who heard her.) “ Did you ever see 
anybody as ugly as this new sister of ours, doctor? ” 

Dr. Stuart laughed* 

‘‘ My dear Madge^ Byron says no man till thirty 
should know there is an ugly woman, and I am only 
twenty-five. I have no doubt, when we come to 
know her, she will turn out to be what her sisters 
are — an angel ! ” 

Though he spoke to Madge he was looking at Lucy, 
whose color rose and whose eyes fell. Madame Tor- 
wood resentfully struck in *. 

‘‘ If Miss Edith Torwood, or that young man im- 
agined I was going to ask him to stop here, they 
were very much mistaken. I don’t believe in filling 
with young men a house where there are girls — I don’t 
consider it delicate ; and whatever lofty notions 
Miss Edith Torwood may possess, she will find I am 
mistress here.” 

Lucy looked distressed, the doctor grave, and 
Madge carved her chicken in savage silence. It was 
rather an ominous beginning, and Miss Edith’s debut 
had been anything but a success. 

Going up to bed that night as the clock struck 
eleven, Lucy Torwood stopped at Edith’s door, and 
softly turned the handle. It was not locked, for the 
very good reason, perhaps, that it had no lock, and 
Lucy went in. It was a pretty room — all pink silk 
— and the bed, in a shadowy corner, was draped with 
rose silk and white lace curtains. 

On it lay Edith lay fast asleep ; her pale face looked 
statuesque in the shaded lamplight, but her long 
eyelashes glistened with bright drops, and herabun- 


THfi SIStERS OF TORWOOD* 73 

dance of glossy dark brown hair, and the pillow on 
which her cheek rested, were drenched with tears* 

“ Poor child ! ” Lucy said, turning away ; “ she can 
feel after all. If she but knew whak destiny lies in 
store for her at Tor wood Towers, she might well 
weep*^’ ' 


74 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


CHAPTEE YI. 

AT THE GATE. 

Dr. Paul Stuart, being a medical man, understood 
the benefits of early rising, and as six chimed sonro- 
ously from the old hall clock, he was leaning against 
a huge rock down on the shore, smoking his meer- 
schaum, and enjoying the beauties of nature. The 
sun had risen in the bluest of summer skies, piled 
with billows of translucent white ; the sea lay as 
smooth as a great blue-burnished mirror, and boats 
danced over it like fairy barks on a fairy sea. The 
birds were chanting their matin hymns in the woods 
behind him, the waves crept up to his feet with a 
low musical plash, and the grim old house, with all 
its eastern windows glittering like sheets of gold, 
lay as peaceful and still as the Enchanted Castle of 
the Sleeping Beauty. 

‘‘ And that castle contains three sleeping beauties,” 
was Dr. Stuart’s thought as he eyed the blue smoke 
from his pipe contemplatively. “ Lucy the gentle, 
Edith the proud, Madge the hoiden ; but Florence, 
the last, the brightest, the best, when will you shine 
out in your brightness and eclipse them all ? ” 

Alone as he was, he laughed to himself, and the 
laugh was echoed by some one behind him. 

He turned and saw, not Madge, as he had expected, 
but Edith Torwood, the Creole, coming down the 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 75 

sloping walk, with her sister’s great dog, Sancho, 
gamboling furiously around her. It was at his 
clumsy antics she was laughing — she had not seen 
Dr. Stuart at all. In the fresh morning air and sun- 
shine, she looked far brighter and better than she 
had the evening before ; certainly she looked elegant 
and refined, a lady to her finger tips. Her dress 
was black silk, full and flowing, a crimson sacque 
that contrasted well with her dark face and hair, and 
on her head a black Spanish hat of velvet, with a long 
sable plume drooping over it, tipped with vivid scar- 
let. Around her neck she vfore a slender chainlet of 
gold, to which was attached a jet cross encircled by 
rubies. All black and scarlet, everything about her 
dark and rich, she looked like some tropical bird 
alighted down there by mistake, on that Maryland 
shore. 

Keep off, sir,” she was saying, in her sweet, for- 
eign accented voice, laughing, as she shook the huge 
• paws off her dress. Get down, I tell you ! See how 
you are soiling my skirt with your dirty paws. I’m 
ashamed of you.” 

“ Where is the haughty little princess we had last 
night, I wonder ? ” thought Dr. Stuart, still placidly 
smoking, and looking on, “ not this bright-robed 
laughing Aurora, who rises with the dawn and romps 
with dogs. I’ll speak to her, I think ; she does not 
look over formidable, and I flatter myself I am quite 
as conversable a companion as Sancho. Good-morn- 
ing, Miss Tor wood.” 

He started up, bowing easily as the dark gray eyes 
fell bn him at last. Miss Torwood ceased patting 
Sancho’s rough head suddenly, her laughing face 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


76 

darkened at once into gravity, and the bow was re- 
turned very distantly and coldly, indeed. But Dr. 
Stuart was not to be discouraged by trifles. 

“ A lovely morning, is it not ? I was under the 
mistaken notion that I was the only one in Torwood 
Towers who had risen to enjoy it.’’ 

“You belong to Torwood Towers ? ” she said, in 
cold inquiry. 

“ For the present, yes. They neglected to intro- 
duce me last night, so permit me to perform that 
ceremony now. Your obedient — Dr. Paul Stuart.” 

“I thought so,” Miss Edith said, with a slight 
bend of her proud head. “ Come, good dog ; shall 
we have our walk ? ” 

But Sancho, thinking he had escorted her far 
enough, and that he would leave the rest to the doc- 
tor, politely licked the caressing hand, and trotted 
back to the house, to await his morning.orders from 
his own proper mistress. 

“ Your escort has deserted you,” Dr. Stuart said, 
coolly replacing his meerschaum between his lips ; 
“ very ungallant of him.” 

She smiled slightly ; she had a very bright and 
very pretty smile, the doctor noticed, but she walked 
away in silence. He made no offer to accompany 
her — probably he was judge enough of human na- 
ture, that being his forte, to know that a cold stare 
of surprise, and a colder “ Ho, sir, thank you,” would 
have been his reward. Leaning against the rock, 
and looking over the wide sea, he stood smoking 
and thinking. Thinking and thinking, while the 
white sails came and went, and the sea-gulls wheeled 
in circles round him, sometimes with that peculiar 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


77 


mocking smile of his, so roguish and so knowing, 
playing round his lips, sometimes with brow dark- 
ening and contracted. But whether smiling or 
darkly grave, he still stood and thought, and smoked 
until he saw the black and red figure coming slowly 
back over the sands, and the same moment heard a 
well-known shout behind him. He turned, and so 
did Edith, as Madge, who never walked like any 
other Christian, came springing like a water kelpie 
over the rocks toward him. 

‘‘ Oh, here you both are ! ” she cried, quite breath- 
less ; “ I have been hunting everywhere for you, and 
came to the conclusion at last that you had eloped 
together.” 

The doctor laughed, but Edith frowned. Madge, 
heeding neither, ran on : 

“ It is near ten o’clock now, and we are supposed 
to breakfast at nine. When you both have done sen- 
timentalizing over sea-weed and sand-banks, per- 
haps you will come up to the house and have some- 
thing to eat.” 

“ An excellent notion,” said Dr. Stuart. “ I had 
quite forgotten I was hungry, until you came, like 
the dear little angel you are, to remind me of it. 
Have you been out this morning ? ” 

To be sure ! There isn’t a rope in Torwoodtown 
strong enough to hold me indoors such a day. Oh ! 
I forgot I had a message for you, Edith. I saw Mr. 
Angus Torwood a while ago, and he told me to tell 
you he would not come over until evening.” 

Why ? ” 

“ That’s just what I asked him, and he gave me 
one of his black looks, and muttered something 


78 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

about being unavoidably detained. Of all the horrid 
men I ever saw ” 

A grimace finished the sentence, for the gray eyes 
were flashing angrily. 

‘‘ Be good enough to spare your criticisms before 
me,” she said, haughtily, ‘‘ and remember he is 
your cousin as well as mine.” 

‘‘ Well, I don’t know that he is any the better for 
that,” said Madge, wlio took rebuffs as coolly as 
compliments. “ He’s more like a banished prince, 
or one of those Italian chaps you see in pictures, 
with cocked hats, and cut-away cloaks, and hidden 
daggers, and scowling brows, than an every-day 
Christian. But perhaps it’s the fashion to be black 
and dismal in Cuba — everybody that I ever knew 
from that blessed little island made it a point of 
conscience to be so.” 

“ How many have you known from there ? ” 
Edith asked in her cold, constrained tones. 

Only two — Miss Edith and Mr. Angus Tor- 
wood.” 

“ Miss Edith and Mr. Angus are exceedingly 
obliged to you.” 

“ They ought to be — perhaps they don’t hear the 
truth everyday,” said Madge, composedly, and Dr. 
Stuart, half-laughing, came to the rescue : 

“ It is of no use being angry with Madge, Miss 
Edith ; she is a privileged character, says and does 
precisely what she likes, and nobody minds her. 
When you know her better, you will find out she 
does not mean half she says. There is Miss Tor- 
wood looking out for us ; she vill begin to think 
we are incorrigible loiterers.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 79 

Lucy stood on the back piazza, and held up an ad- 
monitory finger as they drew near. 

‘‘ Late again ! Do you know you have kept break- 
fast waiting for a whole hour? Edith, my dear, 
good morning. How did you sleep last niglit ? ” 

“ Thank you, very well.” 

They passed into the dining-room together, Lucy 
presiding. 

“ If your coffee is lukewarm, ^T'our eggs hard', and 
your beefsteak burned, good people, blame your- 
selves, and not me or Aunt Polly. We did our best, 
but eatables will spoil. Edith, you take nothing.” 

I am doing very well, thank you,” said Edith ; 
but she said it absently, sipping her coffee in silence. 

All through breakfast she was very still, rather 
thoughtfully than in pride or sullenness. Perhaps 
she was thinking of Dr. Stuart’s words. “ Nobody 
minds what Madge says,” for when the meal was 
over, and that young person standing at one of the 
windows, humming to herself her favorite ditty of 
“ The Three Little Women,” two hands fell lightly 
on her shoulders, and a sweet foreign*accented voice 
spoke close to her ear. 

“ And so you don’t like Cousin Angus or me, little 
sister? ” 

Madge looked carelessly around. A smile, half- 
sad, half-amused, lingered round the proud lips, and 
with the blunt frankness that was at once her best 
and most terrible trait, answered : 

“No.” 

“And why not, pray ? What have we done?” 

“ Lots of things 1 You are both as proud as Luci- 
fer, and as sulky as bears with sore heads. Nobody 


8o 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


dare handle either of you without kid gloves, and I 
hate all such folks like poison.” 

“ Then you hate me ? ” 

Madge’s answer w^as a shrug, and the strong 
gray eyes searched her face intentl}^ to see whether 
its frankness were real or assumed. Evidently she 
concluded it was the latter, for the bright smile 
deepened. 

“ ^Nevertheless, my dear, I think / should like you 
very much by and by. I want to talk to you ; so, 
if you have nothing better to do, come up with me 
to my room.” 

“ I promised to go to Torwoodtown this morn- 
ing,” said Madge ; “ but, however, I can put off 

that, I guess, until after luncheon.” 

Edith put her arm around her waist, and Dr. 
Stuart, sitting in an arm-chair, apparently ten 
fathoms deep in a magazine, watched them covertly 
as they left the room. 

They were alike, these two sisters, tall and slender, 
both with dark eyes and hair, and with a certain 
likeness of feature, but with this all resemblance 
ended. The expression was entirely different, and 
the deep, thoughtful brow, and grave, penetrating 
gaze of the elder, were utterly lacking in the round, 
boyish forehead and vivacious black orbs of the 
younger. 

Edith’s room, when she had entered it the night 
before, was a pretty one, but fairy fingers had been 
at work in the interval, and it was ten times pret- 
tier now. The walls were hung with lovely little 
gems of pictures, all portraits of exceeding beauty 
and price. There was one of their own mother, the 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 8l 

second mistress of Torwood, a dark, beautiful face 
looking earnestly out at you from rippling masses 
of coal-black hair, and with a striking resemblance 
to Edith, in the solemn depths of the uplifted eyes. 
There was one of Mary of Lorraine, of Marie Stuart, 
of Jose})hine, Jeanne D’Arc, and, last of all, a por- 
trait of herself taken at ten years old — a thin, spirit- 
ual little face that startled you with its prophecy of 
wonderful things to come. Yolumes of engravings, 
charming escritoires, inlaid portfolios, magnificently 
bound photograph albums, half a dozen queer little 
statuettes of peris and satyrs, fans of marabou and 
peacock feathers, one open jewel-case filled with 
trinkets, a great pile of books, and dozens of other 
knickknacks w^ere scattered about. 

Madge opened her eyes and stared about her in 
grand, careless surprise. 

“ Law ! w^hat funny things ! Have you Aladdin’s 
lamp, Edith, and did yqu sit up rubbing it all 
night ? ” 

‘‘Not exactly, only I brought some of my treas- 
ures with me from Cuba.” 

“ I saw you had a cart-load of luggage. What a 
pretty face that is, and what beautiful ladies those 
are up there ! Who’s that pretty woman with the 
rufiie and queer little cap ? ” 

“ Mary Stuart, Queen of Scotts.” 

“ Ah, poor thing ! she got her head cut off, didn’t 
she? How nasty it must have been to be a queen 
in those times. Who’s the one beside her ? ” 

“ Her mother, Mary of Lorraine. Do you know 
there was a Sir Angus Torwood who won a great 
victory for her once ? He w^as an ancestor of ours, 


82 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


And the chief of the great Highland elan from whom 
we are descended. The Tor woods were great peo- 
ple in those da3^s.” 

Though she laughed, her eyes had lighted proudly ; 
but Madge only stared et the picture unconcern- 
edly. 

“Were they? Who’d ever think it! I suppose 
Sir Angus was like his namesake, another black- 
browed, brigandish-looking chap, so savagely stuck 
up nobody dare look at him. But look here, where 
did you get all these pretty things ? I thought our 
Creole aunt was desperately poor ? ” 

“ She was once, but she married a rich planter. 
Come and help me to unpack my dresses. I don’t 
know where I shall put half my things.” 

Unpacking and talking, the sisters were so busy 
that the morning hours passed unheeded, and both 
were astonished when Lucy’s smiling face looked 
in, and Lucy’s sweet voice told them it was luncheon 
hour. 

“ Who’d have thought it,” said Madge ; “ I don’t 
know where the morning has gone to. I declare, 
Edith, you’re not half so disagreeable as you look.” 

“ Madge ! ” Lucy cried, reprovingly, but Edith 
only smiled, and the three passed together into the 
dining-room. 

Madame Torwood was there, very dignified and 
stately, in satin and crape and jet ornaments, and at 
sight of her and her frigid bow, Edith turned from 
life to marble again. 

Dr. Stuart still sat where they had left him in the 
morning, as if he had never risen ; but he rose now, 
^nd took his place with the rest. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 83 

“ Dr. Stuart wishes us to go driving this after- 
noon,” said Lucy, “what do you say, Edith? you 
have not seen much of Torwoodtown.” 

Edith’s petrified face and compressed lips said 
“ no,” but Madge struck in coaxingly : 

“ She says yes — don’t you, Edith? Torwood- 
t own’s splendid, and Doctor Stuart’s driving is 
something sublime. Say you’ll come.” 

“ I second your petition,” Dr. Stuart struck in ; 
“ say yes. Miss Edith ; nobody ever refuses Madge.” 

“ And I never rebel against rightful authority — 
so yes, with pleasure.” 

Immediately after dinner the young ladies hurried 
off to dress, and the doctor gave orders to have the 
old-fashioned family chariot brought round. Luc}^, 
looking pretty and graceful in her slight mourning 
dress of crape, and a white little bonnet with black 
adorning, took the front seat with Dr. Stuart, at his 
particular request, and Madge and Edith took the 
other, and, with madam’s critical eyes upon them, 
the whole party drove off. The mistress of Torwood 
turned away from the window with a self-satisfied 
little smile. 

“ I think it will be all right,” she said to herself, 
with the summer sunbeams playing at her feet. 
“ He chose Lucy ; Madge is a romp, and Edith is a 
compound of pride and insolence; what will the 
fourth be like, I wonder ? ” 

The last crimson ray of sunset had faded out, and 
the round white moon, and her handmaidens, the 
stars, were out in their silvery beauty before the 
party returned. Lucy and Dr. Stuart still occupied 
the front seat, but in the back, between the two 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


84 

girls Mr. Angus Torvvood was sitting very much at 
his ease. Madame Torwood was out on the front 
piazza enjoying the moonlight and odor of the sleep- 
ing flowers as they all came up the stairs together. 

“ How late you are ; it is eight o’clock. Good- 
evening, Mr. Torwood. Have you dined, young 
ladies?” 

“We had an impromptu dinner at the hotel,” said 
her son, “ and enjoyed it amazingly — didn’t we, 
Madge ? ” 

“ Speak for yourself,” said Madge, resentfully. 
“I know the mutton was raw, and the chicken as 
tough as if they had come out of the ark, and the 
pudding they gave us like so much lead. I never 
expect to get over the effects of it — there ! ” 

“Lucy, child,” said madam, suavely, “your dress 
is thin, and you will catch cold in the night air. 
Come in all of you.” 

A wood fire flickered on the hearth, the lamp 
burned brightly on the table, the curtains were 
drawn, and the drawing-room at Torwood Towers 
looked a very pleasant place just then. The young 
ladies went away Lo take off their things, and when 
they came back Dr. Stuart and Mr. Angus Torwood 
were deep in a game of chess. Edith came and leaned 
over her cousin’s shoulder, Madge took her station 
at the Doctor’s elbow, while Lucy and Madame 
Torwood looked on with interest from the oppqsite 
side. With so many bright eyes upon them, no 
wonder the young men did their best, with knit 
brows and unsmiling faces. 

“ A drawn battle,” Edith said, gayly ; “ which is 
to be the conqueror ? ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 85 

ara,” the doctor cried, springing the very move 
he had long planned ; checkmated! ” 

The dark face of Angus flushed hotly ; but Edith’s 
hand fell lightly on his shoulder. 

“ Beaten, but not vanquished — try again ! A Tor- 
Avood can die but never yield ; isn’t that so. Cousin 
Angus? ” 

“ I shall play no more,” was Cousin Angus’ an- 
swer ; ‘‘ let us have some music instead — play for us, 
Edith.” 

“An excellent idea,” said Dr. Stuart, sweeping 
the kings, queens, bishops and castles together in a 
heap. “ Miss Editli, I am waiting to be enchanted.” 

“ You Avill wait a long time before I enchant you,” 
said Edith, moving in her proud and careless Avay to 
the piano. “ What shall I play for you, Angus ? 

“ Something of Beethoven’s ; one of those songs 
without words you play so well.” 

Edith’s Avhite hands swept over the keys, and what 
grand, grateful tones the instrument gave out to 
her master touch ! Very different was it to Lucy’s 
school-girl jingle— solemn and sweet the notes floated 
through the room, making such melody as the old pan- 
eled Avails had never echoed before. When she rose, 
the trance of silence that folloAved was the best ap- 
plause — even cold Madame Torwood was spellbound. 

“ Oh, Edith ! how well you play ! ” was Lucy’s 
cry, and that broke the spell. 

*“ You should hear her on the organ,” said Angus, 
looking proudly at her. “ She is a second St. Cecilia.” 

“There is an old parlor organ down in the 
library,” said Lucy ; “ it shall be fixed. It belonged 
to your mother, Edith.” 


86 


THE SISTERS OE TORWOOD. 


Dr. Stuart still sat silent ; but Edith, chancing to 
glance his way, read more admiration in bis face 
than any words could have expressed. She laughed 
and turned to Madge, who sat in an extremely fid- 
gety condition, and had yawned fearfully during the 
performance. 

‘‘ I suppose you were transported, too, Madge. 
How did you like it ? ” 

“ Oh, not at all ! ” said Madge testily. “ Anything 
more dismal I never heard before, not even at Mr. 
McPherson’s meeting-house. If you had kept on 
much longer I should have been asleep. Let’s go 
out ; it’s a sin to waste such good moonlight.” 

“ Yes, let us go out,” echoed Angus, starting up; 

I must be moving very soon in the direction of the 
hotel or I will be locked out. They keep primitive 
hours over there, and mine host has no faith in latch- 
keys.” 

Lucy brought shawls, and all went out. A strange 
figure sat at the gate, a figure muffled in a cloak 
with the hood drawn far over the head. It started 
up as they drew near, looming aloft so tall that its 
head seemed in the misty light to belong to a person 
of unusual stature. It stood only for a second, and 
then dashed through the shrubbery into the woods, 
and was gone, but not before a wild, shrill shriek 
cleft the still night air. It came from the lips of 
Edith, who had sprung back, and stood with dis- 
tended eyes, and a face blanched as death. 

“ Good heavens ! ” Lucy cried, pale and trembling, 

what was that dreadful thing, and Avhat ails^ 
Edith?” 

At the sound of her name, Edith laid her hand on 


THE SISTERS OE TORWOOD. 87 

her heart, as if to still its tremulous throbbings, and 
looked round. She must have had wonderful self- 
control, this strange Edith, for finding all eyes fixed 
upon her, she forced a smile. 

“ It is nothing — that figure startled me — a beggar, 
I suppose ! Let us go on ! ” 

“ A beggar,” thought Dr. Stuart, following slowly 
with Lucy. ‘‘No, Miss Edith, that was no beggar, 
nor are you a young lady to go into hysterics for all 
the beggars in Maryland. There is something odd 
in all this.” 


88 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


CHAPTEE YII. 

FLORENCE. 


“ Paul!'’ 

“ Yes, mother.” 

There was an old elm, with long green arms, out 
in the grounds, with a bench invitingly beneath its 
shade. On this bench Dr. Stuart lazily reclined 
reading, out of the way of the morning sunshine, and 
here his lady mother, wandering listlessly through 
the shrubbery, found him. 

“ I have been searching for j^ou everywhere, and 
fancied you had been carried off again by that rude 
creature, Madge.” 

“ Allay your fears, then, my good mother — your 
son is safe.” 

“ Paul, I want to talk with you.” 

“ I am all attention.” 

‘‘ You were out very late last evening.” 

“Is that what you want to say? It was eleven 
o’clock, if you call that late.” 

“ It was late under the circumstances. You were 
with Miss Torwood, were you not ? ” 

“With three of them, madam.” 

“ Nonsense ! Edith was with her cousin, and 
Madge had her dog — the companion that suits her 
best. You were with Lucy.” 

“ So I was — you are right.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. SQ 

“ You stood on the piazza talking to her, after the 
rest came in ? ” 

Did I ? Let me see. Oh, so I did.” 

‘‘ What did you say to her '^ ” 

“ Several things. What’s this they were ? ” said 
the doctor, closing his book and looking reflective. 
“ Yes, I think I remarked that the night Avas beau- 
tiful, and Lucy responded ‘ lovely ’ — a style of re- 
mark to Avhich, I flatter myself, no exceptions could 
be taken except on the score of originality.” 

^‘Bah! I AA^ant you to talk sense. How do you 
like Miss Tor wood ? ” 

“ Exceedingly. You haven’t got such a thing as 
%a match about you, have you ? I should like to light 
a cigar.” 

Madame Tor wood froAvned a little, but kept on : 

“ Do you like her Avell enough to marry her ? ” 

“ My dear mother, spare my blushes. How can 
you ask such dreadful point-blank questions 

“Answer it.” 

“ Certainly, I do, then. I only Avish I could marry 
every young lady in the Avorld. I assure you I should 
make them all happy in no time.” 

“ You like her better than Edith, of course?” 

“ Miss Edith is a very charming young person, 
indeed.” 

“ And better than Madge ? ” 

“ Miss Madge is delightful.” 

“You know, Paul,” madam said, loAvering her 
voice confldentially, “ you couldn’t have Edith even 
if you Avished, and I am very glad of it, for a more 
impertinent piece of pride I never saAV in my life.” 

“ Are you not a little severe ? Here, take a seat 


go 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


beside me. Now, why could I not have her if I 
wished ? ” 

“ Because,” still more confidentially, ‘‘ I think she 
is in love with her cousin.” 

“ Oh! ” said Dr. Stuart, and he laughed that pecu- 
liar and most doubtful laugh of his. 

“Well,” said his mother, irritated by the sound, 
“ and what are you laughing at ? ” 

“ Oh, nothing — don’t mind me 1 Only a notion I 
have.” 

“ What is it ? Don’t you agree with me ? ” 

“Not exactly.” 

“ Do you mean to say you think I am mistaken ? ” 

“ If you will permit me to say so.” 

“ Paul, are you blind or stupid ? I tell you I am 
right.” 

“ Perhaps so ; I merely fancied you reversed the 
case.” 

“ How ? ” 

“ Why I thought he was in love with her, instead 
of the way you put it.” 

“ It is the same thing.” 

“ Indeed ! I did not know that. So you think I 
stand no chance against cousin Angus ?” 

“ Paul, I detest the tone you talk in. One cannot 
1)0 sure whether you are in jest or earnest, and you 
know this is no laughing matter.” 

“ Very far from it. It is growing to be the most 
desperately serious matter of my life.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“ No, I suppose not. Never mind, though ; I dare 
say you will some day.” 

“ Edith being out of the question, then Lucy only 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 91 

remains ; for, of course, that overgrown child and 
rude romp, Madge, is not for a moment to be thought 
of.’’ 

“ As a wife for me— no. I think not, for many 
reasons — first and chief among them being, that she 
wouldn’t have me.” 

“ I dare say she is enough of a simpleton to refuse 
gold for pitiful tinsel. Lucy then only remains.” 

“ Ah ! I thought there was another — what is this 
you called her ? Florence, wasn’t it ? ” 

‘‘To be sure! Yes, I quite forgot Florence! and 
they say she is very pretty, too ! ” 

The doubtful smile, roguish and knowing, was on 
the doctor’s face again — perhaps at his mother’s 
deeply thoughtful and musing tone. 

“ And young men are all slaves of their eyes. 
Well, I don’t know her, of course, but she ought to be 
here to-day, and then — but, Paul, do tell me, you may 
tell your mother, you know — what do you think of 
Lucy ? ” 

“ I think her,” said the doctor, lounging more com- 
fortably on the bench, “a most estimable young lady, 
very nice looking, et cetera, and the best housekeeper 
in existence.” 

“ Bah ! I don’t mean that. In plain English, will 
you marry her ? ” 

Dr. Stuart made a slight grimace, but ended in a 
laugh. 

“ Really, Madame Torwood, you are the most ter- 
rible inquisitor I ever met with. You hit the nail on 
the head at once.” 

“ Paul, will you marry her ? ” 

Pr. Paul started up. 


92 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


“ Be easy, good mother, and I will tell you a secret 
— if ever I do marry, my wife will be one of Judge 
Torwood’s daughters, rest assured of that.” 

“ Will it be Lucy ? ” 

There was a clatter of horse’s hoofs, the low bark- 
ing of a dog, a shrill treble voice shouting good-by to 
some one else, and then Madge Torwood came dash- 
ing down the avenue, mounted on Bozinante, with 
Sancho Panza at his heels. Madge always looked her 
best on liorseback — she looked her best now, her thin 
cheeks flushed, her black eyes blazing with life and 
spirit, her jaunty riding-hat perched samcily on one 
side of her shingled head, her dark green riding- 
habit fitting her tall slim figure to perfection. She 
lifted her hat like a jaunty little cavalier to the lady 
as she passed. 

“ Whither away so fast, pretty one? ” quoted the 
doctor, from the novel he was reading. 

“ To Torwoodtown, and I am going to fetch some- 
body back to dinner.” 

“ Who?” 

“ Mr. McPherson ; he has been too long away, and 
I want him to come and look after a piece of his 
property he is in danger of losing. By-by. Get 
along, Bozinante ! ” 

What does she mean?” madam asked, frown- 

ing. 

“ Quien sabe f ” replied the doctor. “ The Sphinx 
is plain reading compared with that damsel. Have 
you anything more to say to me, mother, because 1 
am going to smoke ? But don’t hurry yourself on 
my account, I beg.” 

And while Madame Torwood, taking this delicate 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


93 


hint, moved away with an expressive shrug, and Dr. 
Stuart, lying at full length on his bench, solaced 
himself with cigars and fiction, Madge was galloping 
over the mountain road, between the Towers and 
the town. She had almost reached her destination, 
and was urging Eozinante, who, from some cause 
best known to himself, seemed disinclined for exer- 
tion that morning up hill, when the animal stumbled 
and nearly fell, stopping short with a whine of pain. 

AVhy, Eozinante, old fellow, what is the matter ? ” 
exclaimed Madge, very much astonished at this un- 
usual behavior on the part of her gentlemanly steed. 
‘‘ What the mischief’s wronff with you, I want to 
know « ” 

“ Your horse has lamed himself, I think,” said a 
quiet voice near her ; and, looking round, the young 
lady saw a figure lying on the grass, on whom tl-e 
cares of life and a green shoo ting- jacket appeared to 
sit easily. A brown straw hat was pulled over his 
face, a gun and an empty game bag lay on one side 
of him, and a shaggy Newfoundland crouched on 
the other. This latter got up with a deeply bass 
growl of sight of Sancho, who returned the growl 
with compound interest, and stared hard at the in- 
truder. 

“ Make your dog let mine alone,” ordered impe- 
rious Madge. “ Sancho ! hold your tongue, sir.” 

“ Down, Faust ! ” said the gentleman, still without 
getting up. “ You will have to dismount, young 
lady, I am afraid. Permit me to assist you.” 

He sprang up at last, set his hat properly, and 
held out his liand. Madge eyed him before she took 
it, and set him down for about the best looking 


94 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


specimen of his sex she had viewed for some time. 
He might have been three-and-twenty, certainly not 
more, slender and boyish of figure, with large, lazy, 
handsome brown eyes, a profuseness of most desirable 
curling black hair, a thick black mustache that was 
perfection in its way, features regular and classical 
enough for some old Grecian statue, hands and feet 
like a lady’s, and carrying a sort of easy, off-hand 
air about him that became him well. Though his 
dress was careless and common enough, you could 
see at a glance he was a gentleman — his voice alone 
would have told that ; for he spoke in those modu- 
lated and refined accents that can only come from 
education. 

As Madge continued to sit and stare at him, he 
took off his hat and made her a courtly bow. 

‘‘ Mademoiselle eyes me gravely. I hope I meet 
her approbation.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Madge, whom nothing ever had the 
power to discompose, “you started up from the 
earth so suddenly, that I was not sure I had not 
come face to face with a genie out of the ‘ Arabian 
Hights,’ and wanted to make sure. Are you certain 
you have not enchanted my horse ? ” 

“ Hot to my knowledge ! I would much rather 
enchant his charming rider — if I could.” 

“ You did well to add that last clause, because you 
couldn’t do it, you know, if you tried till doomsday. 
Just look at Eozinante’s foot, will you, and see if he 
can carry me to Torwoodtown.” 

The young gentleman obeyed this cool request, 
and examined Eozinante’s pedal extremity with ^ 
critical eye. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 95 

“ I fear not ; he has lamed himself rather seri- 
ously. You had better dismount, and I will lead him 
for you.” 

“ ril dismount,” said Madge, eying his proffered 
hand rather disdainfully, and springing lightly out 
of the saddle ; “ but I’ll not trouble you to lead him, 
as I can do that myself. Poor Kozinante ! poor fel- 
low ! how did it happen, I wonder ? ” 

As Madge examined the animal’s afflicted foot 
with a face full of concern, the young man threw 
himself on the grass again. 

“ Don’t go yet ! You and Rozinante are tired — 
don’t say no, I’m sure you are — and I want some- 
body to talk to. You owe me something anyway 
for finding out he was lame.” 

Do I ? And what payment do you want ? ” 

“ The pleasure of your "Company for half an hour 
— I must be going by the end of that time. Here’s 
a soft rock, sit down and say something ! ” 

‘‘Well, you are cool!” said Madge, drawing a 
long breath and staring at him ; “ it’s refreshing to 
listen to you. What does your serene highness wish 
me to say \ ” 

“ Anything you please. I am sure all your re- 
marks will be delightful 1 ” 

“ I’m obliged to you ! To begin, then, who are 
you ? ” 

“ A gentlemen by courtesy and the grace of 
God ” 

“ I should never suspect you had any of that last 
about you ! You have a name, haven’t you ? What 
is it ? ” 

“ A very pretty one — St. Leon.” 


96 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


“ Stuff ! that sounds too much like the hero of 
a three-volume novel. Are you sure it’s not Kobin- 
son or Brown ? ” 

Thank goodness, yes ! ” 

‘‘ And your name’s really St. Leon ? ” 

“ It really is, incredible as it sounds.” 

‘‘ What else ? People generally have two names.” 

“ So they have ! You won’t faint when I tell 
you ? ” 

“ I’ll try not to.” 

“ It’s Giaccomo, then.” 

Madge whistled. 

Giaccomo St. Leon ! there’s a nice name to talk 
about ! Are you a foreigner ? ” 

“ Not to my knowledge ; not if birth in a New 
England village and of a New England mother does 
not make me so.” 

“ How did you have the misfortune to get such 
an outlandish name, then ? ” 

“ Because I chanced to possess a foreign father, 
who first opened his eyes on the banks of the Gua- 
dalquiver, and closed them on those of the Connecti- 
cut.” 

“Oh, that’s the way, is it? You’re a stranger 
here, of course ? ” 

“ Never set foot in Maryland until this morn- 
ing.” 

“ What brought you to Torwoodtown ? ” 

“ You never would guess.” 

“No, I’m not a Yankee. To escape the sheriff, 
perhaps.” 

“ Not exactly ! I’m in search of a wife.” 

“ Indeed ! You have just come to the right place, 


THE SISTERS OF TORWoOD. 97 

then ! Young ladies — such nice ones, too ! — are as 
plentiful here as blackberries in season. For in- 
stance, there are three or four over there in one 
house.” 

What a paradise that house must be. Who are 
they ? ” 

‘‘ Torwood^s the name — four Misses Torwood.” 

I have heard the name before, I think. One 
came here recently, didn’t she? A tall, dark girl— 
not ])ad looking ? ” 

“ Why, that’s Edith ; did you kpow her ? ” 

“ Slightly.” 

“ Where ? ” 

“ I met her in Cuba, I thiiik.’^ 

‘‘ Oh, it’s the very same ; she has just come from 
Cuba. I suppose you mean to call and see her ? ” 
“It would only be a polite attention, wouldn’t it? 
Do 3^ou think I. had better? ” 

“ Decidedly ! it would be bad manners to stay 
away ; and I hate bad manners. Call, by all means.” 

“ It shall be as you say ; but is it not like entering 
a lion’s den ? Is it not walking with one’s eyes open 
into a bottomless gulf of danger ? Four beautiful 
young ladies — just think of it ! What is to become 
of me among them all ? ” 

“ Yery true ! It 1^.9 a danger ; and though you 
might withstand the rest— on the same principle 
that pigs might fly, though they’re unlikely birds— 
you never could hold out against the<youngest — 
never ! ” 

“ Is she so very nice, then ? ” 

“ nice ! That is a pretty word to apply to Madge 
Torwood ! You might as well say the sun at noon- 

7 


98 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

day, or a flash of lightning, or a bird of paradise, or 
any other great phenomena of nature, was nice, as 
that girl ! I tell you sublime’s the word when you 
talk of her ! Beautiful, bewildering, charming, 
splendid, heavenly! Ghf” cried Madge, in an 
ecstasy, giving little springs up and down on the 
rock, “ the English language is not adequate to the 
task of describing' her 1 ” 

The young gentleman lifted his handsome dark 
eyes in languid astonishment at this outburst. 

“I have heard,” he said, reflectively, “that one 
young lady never praises another, but I find I am 
mistaken. I shall certainly get my heart stove in 
by this beautiful, bewildering — what was the rest ? 
— angel. Are the other two like her ? ” 

“ There never was anybody like her in the world 
— it couldn’t be any more than there could be two 
suns — the idea is absurd ! And now, terrible as the 
task is, I must tear myself aAvay, for my time is 
limited.” 

“ The very remark I Avas about to make myself,” 
said the young man, pulling out a gold hunting- 
watch, and glancing at the hour ; “ but, first, am I 
not to know the name of the young lady av hose de- 
lightful acquaintance I have the felicity to make 
this morning? ” 

“ Oh, undoubtedly ! My name,” said Madge, 
with a polite little bow, “ is Miss Smith— Miss Mary 
Ann Smith — everybody knoAVs me ; John Smith — 
you have heard of him— is my father. Good- 
morning, sir. AVhen you fall in love Avith Madge 
Torwood, be kind enough to let me know.” 

The young gentleman Avith the foreign name 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 99 

sprang lightly to his feet, and, doffing his hat, made 
her a second flourishing bow. 

‘‘ I certainly shall. Good-morning, Miss Smith. 
I shall exist only in the recollection of this hour 
until I see you again. Come, Faust.’' 

Faust rose and shook himself, his m^^ter shoul- 
dered his gun, and, whistling an air, sauntered 
leisurely over the hills, while the soi-disant Miss 
Smith, taking her horse by the bridle, led him in the 
direction of Torwoodtown, thinking much more than 
was customary or quite prudent of the wonderfully 
handsome young stranger who accosted young ladies 
without the ceremony of an introduction, and talked 
to them in such free and easy strain. 

Mr. McPherson was at home, and Madge cheered 
his solitary bachelor dinner by her company and 
spirited conversation. Kozinante’s foot was at- 
tended to, and she had little difficulty after dinner 
in persuading the minister to return with her ta the 
Hall. 

“You haven’t seen Edith, you know?” she 
urged ; “ and there’s Lucy — th© way that girl is 
flirting with the doctor is a sight to see. If you 
have one grain of sense in your head, you’ll 
come.” 

“But Madame Tor wood told me not to.” 

“ Bother Madame Tor wood ! You came to the 
Towers before she ever knew there was such a place 
in existence, and will again, please the pigs*! Get 
your hat and overcoat, there’s a duck, and say no 
more about it.” 

The “duck” took out his snuff-box and helped 
himself to a huge pinch of snuff, and Madge, lean- 


100 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


ing forward, began gesticulating furiously to some 
one outside. 

“ I sa}^, there — Mr. Tor wood I Cousin Angus, 
look here, will you ; it’s 1.” 

A young man riding down the street, drew rein 
suddenly, and looked up at the window, Madge 
leaning out until there seemed considerable danger 
of her coming to grief by tumbling out head fore- 
most, began shouting again. 

“Just hold on one minute, will you! Are you 
going to Tor wood Towers ? ” 

“Yes,” said Mr. Angus Tor\tood. 

“ Then hold on as I told you, and Mr. Mac and I 
will be Avith you in a pig’s Avhisper.” 

Mr. Torwood, if not previously aAvare Avhat 
precise period of time a pig’s whisper might be, 
probably set it down as fifteen minutes, for in that 
time Miss TorAvood and her clerical friend made 
their appearance, booted and spurred for the ride. 
Madge made the two gentlemen acquainted in a 
somewhat brusque fashion, and a brisk ride of full 
half an hour, brought the trio to their journej^’s end. 
As they ascended to the piazza steps Lucy came 
out, her pretty face flushed, her blue eyes sparkling, 
her Avhole face aglow Avith pleasurable excitement. 

“ Well, Lucy, Avhat’s the roAv? ” Madge inquired, 
slapping her boot Avith her Avhip. “ What streak of 
luck has happened lately? IS^obody proposed this 
morning — did they ? ” 

“ Oh, Madge, Florence has come 1 ” 

“ Has she ? So Ave are all together, at last, like 
BroAvn’s cows. Well, gentlemen, come along and 
let us see Avhat this last Miss Toiuvood looks like,” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


lOI 


CHAPTEE YIII. 

“ THIS GENTLEMAN IS MY BETROTHED HUSBAND.’’ 

Lucy, leading the Avay, the three others followed 
into the drawing-room. The golden afternoon sun- 
light came in at the open casement, and basking like 
a tropical bird in its amber glory, Edith stood at one 
of them, her black satin dress falling in shining folds 
to the floor, a cincture of black velvet, dotted all 
over Avith little ruby and golden stars, spanning her 
small waist ; a jacket of purple velvet, buttoned 
to the arched throat Avith silver buttons, tinkling 
like tiny bells AvheneAW she moved ; a rich cross of 
pearls, quaintly set in red-gold, lying on her breast ; 
her exuberant dark, Avaving hair gathered in a mod- 
est knot behind, and Avith one or two scarlet gera- 
nium blossoms in velvet-green leaves reposing in the 
shining ripples. Stately, ladylike, picturesque, she 
looked, if not handsome ; but in the broad, serene 
brow, the calm, earnest gray eyes, the thoughtful 
mouth, there "Avas something that Avould long outlast 
all the pink-and-white Avax-doll beauty in the Avorld. 

A specimen of that rose and snow beauty Avas there 
too. In a great gilded and carved arm-chair, a radi- 
ant vision sat — a youthful angel, whose azure silken 
robe displayed the outlines of a rather plump form ; 
a great Avax doll Avith pink cheeks, violet eyes, pale- 
gold hair, falling in a shovA^er of rippling curls to her 


102 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


waist ; a blonde belle, whose extremely low-necked 
and short-sleeved dress showed shoulders and throat, 
arched, plump, and snowy white arms and hands 
like Hebe’s own. 

A very full-blown beauty, indeed, who would have 
made two of any of the others in breadth, though 
scarcely as tall as Lucy ; the pink cheeks were as 
round as apples ; the delicate fingers, sparkling with 
rich rings, were all dimpled like a baby’s ; and 
Edith’s gold and crimson-starred cestus would not 
have clasped half way round the blue silk waist. It 
never would do to stigmatize a young lady as/h^, 
therefore the most one can say is that Miss Florence 
Torwood,the golden and azure vision, was decidedly 
inclined to emhonpoint. Beautiful she was, so young, 
so fresh, so blooming, but with a mere animal beauty, 
only skin deep. The forehead was white and smooth 
as snowy satin, but no intellect sat enthroned there ; 
narrow and low as it was, too, there was room 
enough for the words vanity and deceit. The violet 
eyes, rather small, rather dull generally, could sparkle 
sometimes, when she looked in the glass, for instance ; 
the nose was perfect — no artist could have formed 
anything straighter, nicer, or more characterless, out 
of putty or clay ; the mouth was like a rosebud ; the 
chin dimpled like the plump hands ; and overall fell 
the shimmering curls of gold, down to the rounded 
waist. Ear-drops of coral and gold sparkled in her 
ears ; gold bracelets adorned the lovely arms ; a 
brooch of cluster diamonds clasped her corsage, and 
her jeweled fingers toyed with the daintiest of fans — 
all pearl and swans’down. 

Yes, Florence Torwood was a beauty, and a co- 


, THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. I03 

quette — selfish, and terribly insipid ; but beauty, 
like charity, covereth a multitude of sins, and look- 
ing like an angel, people generally, and young men 
particularly, were very willing to take her for one, 
and went raving mad about her at first sight. 

But the two young men who came into her daz- 
zling presence now were not of the kind to go raving 
mad about anything at very short notice. Mr. Mc- 
Pherson would have taken snuff before her as 
readily as he would before unlovely Madge, and 
Mr. Tor wood’s taste did not at all lie in the pink- 
and-white, cream-candy, and wax-doll line. Some- 
thing not near so lovely to look at, a dark daughter 
of the earth, stood at the window, with a bright 
smile of welcome on her lips, and was ever so much 
more to his taste. But Lucy, smiling and radiant, 
was deep in the ceremony of introduction. 

“ Florence, here is Madge,” said Lucy. “Would 
you know her ? ” 

Miss Florence might have been a princess, so far 
as lymphatic ease of manner went ; no princess could 
have been more unaffectedly nonchalant than she. 
A languid smile, a careless extension of the snowy 
hand, a faint kiss on one cheek, and a quiet stare — 
that was all. 

“ How do you do ! ” was her listless greeting. You 
have grown as tall as a grenadier ; but I think I 
should have known you.” 

The violet eyes wandered away to the gentlemen ; 
on Mr. McPherson they scarcely lingered a second, 
on Mr. Torwood they rested with a faint show of in- 
terest, as Lucy, mistress of the ceremonies, led him 
over and formally presented him. The beauty gra- 


104 the sisters of torwood. 

ciously bowed, and held out her taper fingers 
with an enchanting smile — a smile that had turned 
scores of heads before now, but which produced no 
such astounding motion on Cousin Angus, who was 
gone before it had faded, and was shaking hands 
with Edith at the window. Mr. McPherson’s recep- 
tion was hardly so genial ; a nod of the golden head, 
and a little sour glance of disdain from the violet 
eyes, rewarded his awkward genuflexion, and de- 
pressed him about as much as her cordiality had 
elated the other. He, too, retreated, and taking 
a seat near Madame Torwood, who sat enthroned in 
her easy-chair near the fire, eying the proceedings 
with frigid criticism, refreshed himself by a pro- 
longed dose from his snuff-box. Madge, leaning 
over the carved and gilded chair, dipped her fingers 
in the shining ripples of her new sister’s hair, and 
began trying her hand at polite small talk. 

“ When did you come ? ” she asked. 

“ About two hours ago I think, ” Florence an- 
swered, suppressing a yawn. 

“ Alone ? ” 

U Yes. ” 

“ Do you like traveling? ” 

‘‘ Ho, I detest it ; it’s horrid ! ” 

“ Are you tired after your journey ? ” 

“ Dreadfully. ” 

Here there was a blank, Madge’s patience and 
small talk being exhausted together. Edith and 
Angus were chatting animatedly in a low tone, and 
in Spanish, at their window ; Mr. McPherson, with 
one leg over the other, was staring at all in turn ; 
and madam sat grave and grim, and very awful in 


The sisters of torwood. ioS 

her stateliness, and watched the flickering wood fire. 
The hush that followed was oppressive, but it was 
suddenly and most unexpectedly broken by the min- 
ister. 

“ Ma’am,” he said in his, most nasal twang, 
turning upon the mistress of Torwood, “ I believe 
the will of the late Judge Torwood was to be read 
when his four daughters were assembled here for 
the first time. The four are here now, so what 
necessity is there for delay? It is only fair that 
they should loiow at once. ” 

Lucy, Madge, even the listless Florence, looked 
vividly interested in this, and the pair at the window 
stopped talking abruptly, vividly interested too. 
The mystery about the will made them all the more 
anxious, and in the pause of expectation that fol- 
lowed you might have heard the beating of their 
hearts. 

Madame Torwood’s face, turned to the fire, had 
been averted ; it was some minutes before she faced 
round ; and when she did the dark red spots that 
only intense emotion of any kind could call there 
burned on her prominent cheek-bones. 

‘‘ I have no objection,” 1 she said, with a slight 
tremor of the steady voice ; “ the sooner or later it 
is the same to me. Shall I go and fetch it? ” 
Hadn’t your son better be present, ma’am ? ” 
True ; so he had. I wonder where he is ? ” 

“ Out in the shrubbery,” said Edith ; ‘‘ I see him 
there now.” 

“ I’ll go after him,” cried Madge, running from 
the room, down the piazza stairs, and into the shrub- 
bery like a flash. Dr. Stuart was walking up and 


106 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

down under the shady trees, with his ever-present 
meerschaum between his lips, and Madge shoved her 
arm through his, and began pulling him toward the 
liouse. 

“ Come along, Doctor Paul,” was her cry ; “ they’re 
waiting for you. The will is to be read, and it can’t 
be done, it seems, unless you are there. Come in.” 

‘‘ Oh ! ” said Dr. Paul, opening his eyes, “ has the 
other one come, then ? ” 

“ Florence? yes ; didn’t you know it ? But then 
you’re so abominably lazy, forever loafing and smok- 
ing in out-of-the-way corners, that you can’t be ex- 
pected to know anything.” 

Is she pretty, Madge ? ” 

“ Pretty as she can be and live, only there’s too 
much of her for my taste. She’s as fat as a seal. ” 

“ Nonsense ! ” and the doctor laughed. 

It’s true, I tell you ; wait till you see ; and she’s 
as flat as skimmed milk after a thunder-storm ; a 
great pink and white and blue and yellow doll ; but I 
dare say you’ll admire her. It would be just like 
your stupid sex to do it.” 

“You are very complimentary,” the doctor said, 
still laughing, as he entered the drawing-room with 
Madge’s arm still thrust through his. 

Everybody stood and sat precisely as she had left 
them, and Madge led her companion up to the 
azure vision in the gilded chair. 

“ Miss Florence Torwood,” said Madge, mimick- 
ing unconsciously the dulcet tone in which Lucy 
had introduced the other, “allow me to present 
my very dear friend. Dr. Paul Stuart, a com- 
patriot of yours from New York.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. I07 

To the astonishment of every one present the 
dull and lymphatic beauty fairlj^ bounded out of 
her chair, and the red blood gushed in a fiefy 
torrent to face, forehead, and neck, dyeing all 
crimson. Both surprise and intensest confusion shone 
in the wide open blue eyes and scarlet face, and the 
words she tried to utter died out in a vague murmur 
on her lips. All stared, as they very well might, but 
Dr. Stuart was as cool, and bland, and as innocently 
unconscious as if he were five years old instead of 
five-and-twenty. He was a great deal too polite 
even to look at the painfull}^ confused face, and ex- 
pressing in cool, conventional phrase his pleasure at 
making her acquaintance, bowed to Messrs. Torwood 
and McPherson, and retreated to a seat at a distant 
window. 

Madge was staring in blankest bewilderment at 
Florence, who, still red to the roots of her hair, had 
subsided back to her seat ; Lucy was the picture of 
surprise. Madam looked startled and suspicious, 
Angus was half smiling knowingly, and Edith’s 
grave eyes looked calm astonishment. Mr. McPher- 
son alone sat unmoved, and returned at once to the 
charge. 

We sent for you. Doctor,” he began, ‘‘ because the 
will is about to be read, and, as you are an interested 
party, it was necessary you should be present. If 
you will go and get it, ma’am, I will read it now.” 

Madame Torwood rose, but Madge cut in, “ Law ! 
what’s the good of going for the will ? It’s a long, 
stupid rigmarole, I know — all wills are — and will 
set us every one to sleep before Mr. McPherson is 
half done drawing it out. All we want to know is 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


108 

how papa left his property, and he can tell us that 
in a dozen words, without any more bother.’’ 

‘‘ So he can,” said madam, nervously ; “ it will do 
as well. Be good enough to explain, in as few 
words as possible, the manner in which the property 
has been left.” 

Mr. McPherson took out his snuff-box, fortified 
himself with a copious pull of the refreshment it 
contained, cleared his throat, and began— 

‘‘ You are all aware, I think, to commence with, 
that my late friend, the judge, the father of these 
young women, was a most peculiar and eccentric 
man.” 

“ That’s the preface,” said Madge, in a loud 
whisper to Lucy, “and anything that requires a 
preface looks suspicious.” 

“ Being eccentric,” pursued Mr. McPherson, “ he 
has made what some people might call an eccentric 
will — more like something one would read in a 
romance than anything of everyday occurrence. 
Judge Torwood died rich ; besides tins house and 
grounds, the market value of which I do not exactly 
know, he left bank stock to the value of one hundred 
thousand dollars. Knowing the nature of young 
women and men in general, he had a natural dread 
that they might fall a prey to fortune-hunters, and 
his money be squandered by idle coxcombs, if un- 
conditionally divided between them ; he, therefore, 
on his death-bed, left them not only ]wovided with 
fortunes, but also ” — Mr. McPherson paused provok- 
ingly to take another pinch — “ but also with a hus- 
band.” 

There was a pause. The speaker produced a red 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. I09 

bandana handkerchief, and blew a sonorous blast, 
and Madge’s black eyes flashed over on Dr. Stuart, 
who sat with his eyes downcast and his lips reso- 
lutely compressed, but with a smile of intense amuse- 
ment lurking wickedly in both. 

“With a husband, did you say, Mr. Mac?” de- 
manded pert Madge. “ Does that mean we are all 
four to marry the same man ? ” 

“ Your patience one moment. Miss Madge. In se- 
lecting a husband for one of his daughters, and a 
master for Torwood Towers, it was quite natural 
his thoughts should turn to his wife’s son. I am 
not aware that he was personally acquainted — in- 
deed, I am positive that he was not — but the young 
man’s excellent reputation as a doctor and a man ” 
— here Dr. Stuart made the minister a polite bow — 
“ had doubtless, reached and influenced him. He, 
therefore, in his will has divided his bank stock into 
two equal parts, and to whichever of his four 
daughters becomes the wife of Dr. Stuart, Torwood 
Towers and fifty thousand dollars fall on her wed- 
ding day. The other fifty thousand is to be divided 
into four equal parts, one to go to his widow, the 
remaining three to his other three daughters. Such 
are the terms of the will.” 

Mr. McPherson ceased, and in the dead silence 
that followed, the faces in the room were a study. 
The red-hot spots on madam’s cheek-bones burned 
like fire ; the lurking roguish smile was deepening 
on Dr. Stuart’s face, in spite of his most decorous 
efforts ; Lucy’s head was averted, but her eyes were 
drooping and her cheeks scarlet ; Florence sat toying 
with her fan, her momentary confusion gone, and a 


no 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


complacent look in her eyes that said plainly enough 
which of the four she thought was to be the success- 
ful one; the dark brow of Angus was contracted 
into a swarthy frown ; Mr. McPherson himself sat 
perfectly stoical ; and Edith’s face was turned to 
the window and could not be seen, but one hand 
had grasped the window-sill in a grip so hard that 
her nails had sunk deep in the rosy palm. Her 
voice, it was, too, that first broke the silence, as, in 
a tone so changed that they hardly knew it, and 
without turning round, she asked : 

‘‘And suppose none of Judge Torwood’s four 
daughters chooses to become the wife of Dr. Stuart 
— what then ? ” 

“ Then,” said Mr. McPherson, peering at the tall, 
dark figure curiously over his spectacles, “ Torwood 
Towers goes unconditionally to Dr. Stuart, in case 
he takes the name of Torwood ; the fifty thousand 
dollars go to Madame Torwood, to be left to whom, 
soever she pleases at her death ; and the other fifty 
thousand is to be equally shared between you four 
young women. It’s rather an odd will, I allow, but 
then ” 

Mr. McPherson paused, and filled up the hiatus by- 
inhaling the largest pinch of snuff that ever was 
drawn up human nostrils. 

Edith Torwood suddenly turned round from the 
window, with a face so changed they could scarcely 
know it, her brow dark as night, her cheeks ablaze, 
her eyes flashing flame. They rested for one fiery 
second, on Dr. Stuart, with a glance so full of bitter 
scorn and hatred that, had looks been lightning, 
would have blasted him in his seat. Then the fiery 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


Ill 


gaze turned from son to mother, and in the same 
bitter, fierce, and unnatural tone in which she had 
spoken before, she said : 

‘‘My father is dead, and the dead should be re- 
spected ; but I will say none but a fool or a madman 
could ever have made such a will. My father I never 
knew, but I believe him to have been neither ; there- 
fore the will is a forgery, or was prompted by some 
demon in human shape. Judge Tor wood never 
would rob his daughters for a stranger he never 
saw ! ” 

Madame Tor wood arose, fiery as her step-daughter 
and a wordy war seemed impending ; but Dr. Stuart, 
with a grave dignity no one could assume better than 
he, interposed. 

“ Mother, restrain yourself; MissTorwood certainly 
cannot mean you by the epithet she has used. If she 
can so far forget herself, your best answer will be 
silence.” 

“ An out-and-out case of diamond cut diamond,” 
whispered Madge to Luc}^, who sat listening with a 
rather pale and startled face now. “ It’s the best 
fun I have had in a month of Sundays. Shouldn’t I 
admire to see those two firebrands scratching each 
other’s face ! ’• 

There are some people who, under the influence of 
strong emotion, attain a sort of grand beauty, bril- 
liant, but short-lived. The slight figure of Edith 
seemed to dilate and grow tall in her keen sense of 
wrong, in her bitter resentment and fiery wrath. 
She turned back to the window, however, without 
another word, and Madame Torwood, with a sort of 
defiance in her face and tone, turned to Lucy. 


1 12 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

“ Miss Torwood, you liave heard your dead father’s 
last commands. AVill you obey ? ” 

Lucy’s face grew painfully flushed one instant, 
and then whiter than before. 

“ My father’s dying words are sacred,” she said in 
a voice so low and tremulous that it could scarcely be 
heard. “ I will obey.” 

“ Good ! And you, Miss Florence? ” in the same 
defiant tone. 

I — I don’t know, I’m sure,” said Florence, look- 
ing scared and helpless beyond everything. 

‘‘You have no particular objection though?” said 
madam, rather contemptuously. 

“ No-o,” very faintly, though. 

“ And you. Miss Margaret, what have you to say 
to your father’s will ? ” ~ 

“ Only this,” said Madge, who was silently per- 
forming a little dance of ecstasy with a chair for a 
partner, “ that I’ll take the fifty thousand dollars 
and your son to-morrow if you like ! ” 

Miss Florence, flimsy as were her faculties, must 
have possessed some feeble sense of the ludicrous, 
for she tittered audibly at this, and Dr. Stuart gave 
the speaker a sidelong glance under his eyelashes, 
and the suppressed smile came back. 

The mistress of Torwood turned last of all to the 
dark figure, all crimson and black at the window. 

“ And now. Miss Edith Torwood,” she said, deri- 
sively, “ we await your answer.” 

Edith, for the last moment or two, had been 
gazing out with strange intentness at a figure com- 
ing up the avenue ; doubt, surprise, recognition, de- 
light, flashing one after another vividly over her face 


THE SISTERS OP TORWOOD. II3 

Kow she turned round, her eyes like stars, her whole 
countenance bright with triumphant defiance. 

“ You shall have it ! ” she cried in a ringing voice j 
“ wait one moment.” 

She made them a sweeping courtesy, the same tri- 
umphant smile on her lips and in her blazing eyes, 
and, with the light, elastic step peculiar to her, 
passed out of the room. 

‘‘ Oh, isn’t she a brick? ” exclaimed Madge to her 
partner, the chair, still in suppressed ecstasy. 

“Has the girl gone mad?” Madame Torwood 
asked, looking around. 

“ There’s method in her madness, I think,” said the 
quiet voice of her son ! “ and by Jove ! she’s not 
alone.” 

Hot alone, certainly. A young man, and an emi- 
nently handsome one, in a green shooting-jacket and 
splendid top-boots, at the sight of whom Madge 
opened her eyes to the size of two full moons, walked, 
hat in hand, by her side, entering the room. She 
was leaning on his arm, proudly, triumphantly, and 
she paused with him half-way across the room. Dead 
silence fell ; strong expectation thrilled every 
heart. 

“ You wanted my answer,” she said, in the same 
ringing tone ; “ here it is ! This gentleman is my be- 
trothed husband, and when I leave Torwood Towers 
it shall be as his wife ! ” 

8 


1J4 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


CHAPTEE IX. 

THE HIJT IN THE WOODS. 

A swELTEEiNG Julj day, when a fiery sun liad 
pulsated red and lurid in a lowering sky, and had 
deepened into an ominous twilight full of forebod- 
ings of a coming storm. The brassy sun had sunk 
out of sight in a west all black and blood-red ; an 
awful hush was in the air, as if earth held its breath 
in awe, in dread of the wrath to come. The sea- 
gulls whirled round and round in circles, dipping 
their glancing wings in the black and glassy sea, and 
screaming shrilly their note of preparation for the 
storm. 

Down dropped the night, and with it the storm. 
The bars of crimson and black streaking the west- 
ern sky turned to a pall of inky gloom — lurid flashes 
of lightning, from what quarter of the heavens no 
man could tell, gleamed incessantly ; one great drop 
of rain, then another and another, faster, thicker, 
heavier, and, with a hissing rush, the tempest burst 
in its might. 

But while the rain fell and the lightning flashed, 
and the black night was dismal without, within Tor- 
wood Towers there were lights, and laughter, and 
music. Grim it looked, lifting its weather-beaten 
head into the darkness, but the drawing-room and 
dining-room windows were bright with illumina- 


I 

I THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. II5 

tions, and the sound of tiie piano, touched by fair 
fingers, could be heard in the pauses of the storm. 

It was just the night to luxuriate in a pleasant 
room, with books, and music, and social chit-chat — a 
night the sturdiest man Avould not have cared to 
venture out ; and yet, just as the rain ceased, a Avin- 
doAV opening on the piazza that ran around the sec- 
ond stor}^ Avas raised, and a slender figure, a female 
figure, shrouded in a long dark mantle, with the 
hood draAvn far oaw its head, stepped out. For a 
moment or tAvo it stood quite still, Avith one shrouded 
arm extended to feel if it still rained, and then, as if 
satisfied, -hastened along to the piazza stairs, de- 
scended, and walked rapidly doAvn the shrubbery 
toward the sea-shore. It Avas a strange night for 
any one to be out, particularly any one from Tor- 
Avood ToAvers, Avhere even the servants, gathered 
together, in the immense kitchen, Avere enjoy- 
ing a banjo breakdoAvn in defiance of Avind and 
weather. 

An unspeakably miserable night it Avas still, 
though the rain had almost ceased, for the trees 
under Avhich the hooded figure Avalked Avere dripping 
and clammy, the path Avas drenched, the grass soak- 
ing, and the night air sodden and oppressive Avith 
moisture. The wind blew raAV and bleak, and the 
surf breaking on the low sand hills, had a moaning 
in its dull roar that made one shiver to listen to, tell- 
ing, as it did, of shipAvreck and death. The black- 
ness of the night Avas illumined aboA^e by the ghastly 
blue phosphorescent glare of the lightning still flash- 
ing, and by this unearthly light the figure made its 
way .doAvn the storm-beaten shrubbery, and struck 


Il6 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

off into a side-path leading across some lonesome 
fields into the black cedar woods. In sunny days 
lazy cows chewed the cud in these fields, and stared 
vacantly at stray plowboys, almost the only crea- 
ture that ever took that lonely short cut ; but the 
cows were huddled under the trees now, and the 
figure, slipping and stumbling, made her wa}^ across 
unseen even by them. Into the rough, straggling 
path the cows and the plowboys had made with 
their clumsy feet, the figure went, and in the gloom 
of the dismal cedar woods, appeared like a dark evil 
spirit on its way to Erebus. 

By instinct, more than sight, it seemed to make 
its way for nearly a quarter of a mile, and then sud- 
denly across the blackness of the path a stream of 
red light shone. No ghastl}^ flame of lightning this, 
but the broad, lurid light of fire and candle shining 
from the window of a hut on the roadside. 

Of all wretched huts, it was the most wretched 
and forlorn — a miserable affair of bark and rotten 
boards, gaping wide apart, and letting the light out, 
with an excuse for a window, where only one pane 
was glass, and the other apertures, where glass 
should have been, stuffed with rags and old hats. 
No cabin, no wigwam in the black depths of some 
primeval forest could have been lonelier or more 
wretchedly forsaken than that ; but the shrouded 
figure hastened toward it, and looked eagerly 
through its one-paned window. 

The view. was a little odd, but not at all startling. 
On the rudest of hearths a great fire of pine logs 
blazed, brilliantly lighting up the hut and its be- 
longings. Scanty belongings they were ; two rickety 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. I17 

chairs, one or two stools, a rough table, a dresser 
with a few articles of crockery, and a rough trundle- 
bed in a corner, that was all. Its inhabitants were 
as scant as its furniture — a huge, overgrown cat sat 
blinking stupidly at the fire, and, bending over a 
saucepan standing on the red coals, was a w^oman 
stirring its contents. Presently she stood up, and 
in the firelight she loomed to an almost colossal 
height — nearly six feet. She might have been one 
of Macbeth’s witches watching her unholy caldron, 
she looked so weird and unearthly, with her vast 
height, her fantastic dress, a short crimson skirt, an 
old black silk shawl, and the gayest of gay cotton 
handkerchiefs twisted turbanwise round her head. 

The woman was a mulatto, but in her straight 
regular features, her broad forehead, and flashing 
black eyes, there was a sort of wild, gipsyish beauty, 
and much intelligence still lingering. A close ob- 
server might have noticed a certain wandering rest- 
lessness in those bright, dark eyes, betokening an 
unbalanced mind, and she muttered to herself as she 
stared vacantly at the fire. Her age might have 
been fifty, and her profuse, coarse black hair was 
thickly streaked with gray ; but, hale, strong, and 
upright, she looked good for the wear and tear of 
another half-century. 

Sitting down on one of the stools, she clasped both 
her knees with her arms, and, still staring at the fire 
and muttering to herself, was evidently waiting for 
the mess in the saucepan to be cooked, when there 
came a distinct rap on the one window-pane. 

The woman’s sense of hearing was acute. She 
started up instantly, and looked in the direction of 


Il8 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

the sound. The rap was repeated, and she crossed 
the room in long strides, and looked out. 

“ Who is there ? ” she asked, in a voice deep as a 
man’s but not unpleasant. 

It is I, Huldah,” said a girlish voice impatiently. 
“ You know me ; open the door.” 

Huldah bent her towering figure, and looked at the 
face, from which the hood had fallen back, in the 
greatest astonishment. 

‘‘ My conscience ! If it’s not her, herself ! What 
can have brought her here, all alone, this time o’ 
night, and anight, too ! Come in, child- — come 
in. Who’d ever thought of seeing you at this hour ? ” 

She opened the door of the hut while speaking, and 
the girl came in, crossed over to the fire, with a 
shiver, and sank down on a stool, wearily and in si- 
lence. The shrouding cloak dropped damp off her 
slender shoulders on the floor, and the face on which 
the ruddy firelight shone looked pale and fretted, 
careworn and anxious. 

Huldah bolted the door again, and, sitting on an- 
other stool opposite, looked at her with eyes in which 
love and solicitude shone. 

‘‘ What’s gone wrong, honey ? ” she asked. “ Some- 
thing must, to fetch you here to-night. What is it ? ” 
Everything,” the girl testily said ; nothing’s 
going right. I was here last night, but the place was 
all dark and shut up. Where were you ? ” 

“ Over in Torwoodtown, honey. There was a 
party there, and the fools wanted their future told. 
1 thought you was some of them coming to-night, 
for it’s always in the dark they do come. If I\1 
known you wanted me, I’d have gone to the house.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. I IQ 

“ IS’o, you wouldn’t,” said her visitor, peevishly ; 
“ I don’t want you to be coming to the house. You 
frightened me enough the other night, and I don’t 
want you to come back again.” 

‘‘ Lor’, honey ! How did I frighten you ? ” 

‘‘ You know well enough — the night you were sit- 
ting at the gate. I can't help showing in my face 
that I know you, and I don’t want^mu to come any 
more.” 

‘‘Very well, honey,” said Huldah, meekly. ‘‘I 
only wanted to see the new madam, when you came 
along, with all the other young ladies and gentlemen. 
Was one of them the madam’s son? ” 

“Yes; the tall one with the fair hair. Take a 
good look at him the next time you see him, Huldah, 
for I’m going to be his wife.” 

“ Lor’, child ! You don’t mean it.” 

“ I do mean it. The will has been read.” 

Huldah instantly grew vividly interested. 

“Read! When? Where? What is in it?” 

“ A great deal of injustice and romantic rubbish. I 
was terribly angry when I heard it first ; but I am, 
just as well satisfied now. The will was made, not 
by Judge Torwood, but by Judge Torwood’s last 
wife, and gives nearly everything to her son.” 

“ To her son ! ” Huldah repeated in bewilderment. 

“Yes; Mr. McPherson, the minister, told us all 
about it the night before last, for the first time, and 
nearly all falls to him, on condition that he mar- 
ries one of us. Marries one of us — do you under- 
stand ? How, Huldah, I mean that he shall marry 
me ! ” 

“ But there is ” 


120 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


“ There is nobody or nothing that shall stand in 
my way. I tell you I shall marry him ! ” 

Do you like him ? ” Huldah asked, looking at 
her curiously. 

“ Like him ! ” repeated the girl, in tones of shrill 
scorn, her eyes flashing fiercer flames than the hot 
firelight. “ I tell you I hate and despise him more 
than any other creature on God’s earth. If he had 
the spirit of a dog, much less that of a gentleman, do 
you think he would take the property of four orphan 
girls and keep it, base, sordid hound that he is, be- 
cause, forsooth, that his mother was their father’s wife, 
and could fool him as she pleased ? Like him ! ” she 
reiterated, her voice growing piercing in its angry 
shrillness. “ I tell you, Huldah Black, the night be- 
fore last, when I heard it first, I could have sprung 
at his throat, as he sat there, smiling insolently, and 
torn it out ! ” 

The mulatto woman looked at her, the latent fire 
in her own eyes beginning to blaze. The girl had 
been pale enough when she entered, but her cheeks 
now were rosy flame. She clenched her small hand, 
and set her teeth involuntarily, as she thought of the 
man she hated, the fire in her angry eyes growing 
more fiercely bright. 

It is the greatest injustice that ever was done. I 
do not believe any Christian court of law would rec- 
ognize such a Avill ; but laAV and justice are not al- 
ways the same^ — I know that ; and this woman is 
deep — deep, designing, and crafty. I hate her as 
well as her mean, spiritless son. But in open warfare 
I am no match for the pair of them, so I must haAm 
recourse to jstratagem. I thought it all over yester- 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


121 


clay, and laid my plans as I tell you. If you help me, 
I shall marry this Doctor Stuart, and reign mistress 
of Torwood ! ” 

“ You will marry the man you hate ? ” 

“ Huldah, don’t be a fool ! ” Huldah’s visitor pet- 
tishly cried. “ What do you know about such things ? 
Every day, for money, girls marry men they hate, 
and Avhy not I ? I want to be rich and honored. I 
want to travel and see the world. I want — oh, mil- 
lions of things that only money can procure; and 
so you must help me in what I am going to do.” 

‘‘ My darling,” the mulatto woman tenderly said, 
“ you know I would die for you.” 

“ You are a good creature, Huldah,” said the girl, 
softening, “ and I am too cross with you ; but my dis- 
mal walk has upset me, and I grow wild every time 
I think of that horrible will. When I am rich, 
shall not be forgotten — remember that.” 

Honey, what is it you want me to do ? ” 

“ Oh, lots of things. I have been plotting and plot- 
ting, until my poor head is ready to split. It is not 
going to be an easy task, for I must work with a vel- 
vet mask on my face and kid gloves on my hands ; 
in other words I am acting a character not my own 
every day, and I must keep it up. They don’t sus- 
pect me. Of the four sisters of Torwood, I fancy I 
am the one least likely to be suspected; I have 
taken good care of that. But plotting evil is new to 
me, and, Huldah, it tires me to death.” 

She sighed heavily, and looked at the fire again, 
with eyes from which all the fiame and sparkle had 
vanished. 

Huldah laid her hard brown hand with a tender 


122 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


touch on the listless little ones folded wearily in the 
girl’s lap. 

“ Only tell me what you want me to do, child, and 
don’t look so pale. You know I love nobody in the 
world but you.” 

“ Thank you, Huldah. I must tell you very fast, 
for I want to get back before I am missed, and it is a 
wretched night. Just see that lightning ! ” 

She shivered, and drew closer to her companion. 
Huldah patted the hand she held, soothingly, and still 
kept her dark eyes fixed on the young girl’s pale 
face. 

“ How did you manage to get out without their 
knowing it, now, honey ? ” 

“ Oh, I pleaded a headache, and begged they would 
not disturb me for two or three hours, and they won’t. 
They think I am sleeping the sleep of the just at 
this present moment, and they are enjoying them- 
selves with three young men in the drawing-room. 
If they only knew what I am about ! ” 

She broke into a short laugh at the notion, but 
checked it instantl}^ and frowned at herself. 

“ Bah ! this fooling won’t do, and the hours are 
passing. Half-past nine,” she said, pulling out a toy 
of a watch, “ and I must be back at ten, lest any one of 
my three tender sisters should take it into her head 
to come to my room and see about me. How, listen, 
Huldah ! ” 

The two drew close together, and for about ten 
minutes talked in whispers, as if they feared the cat 
or the fire might hear and tell. Then the girl arose, 
and picked up her cloak. 

“ Eemember all I have said, Huldah, and do as I 


THE SISTERS OP TORWOOD. 1 23 

tell you, and everything will go right. Lightning 
still ! How I hate the thought of going back over 
that dismal road ! Are you ready to come with me ? 
Make haste ! ” 

Huldah seized a coarse blanket shawl lying on the 
bed, drew it around her tall form, and, opening the 
door, led the way out. 

The night was as drear and dismal as ever, the 
wind as raw, the lightning as vivid, and the hut as 
lonely. It was no hour or place for conversation, 
and silently they went on, the girl clinging to her 
companion’s shawl. As ten pealed from the Hall 
clock in Tor wood Towers, the twain stood at the 
foot of the piazza steps. 

‘‘ How will you get in ? ” Huldah asked, looking 
at at the lights streaming from the kitchen, hall, 
and drawing-room windows. 

“Through my chamber window; it opens on the 
piazza. Good-night, dear, kind, good Huldah. Only 
do as I tell you, and I shall be mistress here ! ” 

“ I will do everything you tell me, my darling,” 
the giantess said, kissing lovingly the little hand ex- 
tended to her. “ You know I would die for you.” 

The girl ran lightly up the stairs, flew along the 
piazza, and paused at the window from which, two 
hours before, she had issued. There was a flash of 
lightning. Huldah, standing below, like a tall black 
ghost, saw a white hand wave to her in its blue 
glare, and then the form at the window vanished. 
With it, went the blue light, and all was blackness 
again. The very night seemed to feel that some- 
thing evil had passed. 


124 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


CHAPTER X. 

STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL. 

Once upon a time, when “gods and goddesses, 
without skirts or bodices,” reigned in Olympus, there 
was a certain one of this number — Achilles, I think 
they called him — who, having been dipped when an 
infant in the river Styx, was rendered thereby in- 
vulnerable forever after, except in the heel by 
which his mother had held him while ducking him. 
Madame Torwood was something like Achilles — in- 
vulnerable at all points but one, and that one weak 
point did not lie in her heel but in her heart. That 
organ was iron-clad to all the world but one, that 
one her son Paul — there an arrow could enter, there 
was the one weak place in her strong masculine 
nature. 

Dr. Paul, leaning against the mantel one evening, 
the second after the arrival of Florence, and looking 
down at his lady mother placidly crocheting in her 
arm-chair, startled her by suddenly saying — 

“ Mother, I wish you would give a dinner party.” 

Down went the crochet, wide open flew madam’s 
eyes. 

‘^My dear Paul ! ” 

“ My dear mother ! ” 

“ Give a dinner party ? What nonsense ! I’ll do 
no such thing ? ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 125 

“Oh, yes, you will ! to please me, you know — it’s 
a whim I have.” 

“ I don’t care about your whims 1 I won’t do it. 
Dinner party, indeed ! Who is to eat it ? ” 

“ A good many people — I have the list all made 
out, and all the CTew£ de la creme of Torwoodtown ; 
so don’t look so shocked. What day will it be?” 

“ Stuff and nonsense ! What put this notion in 
your head ? ” 

“ The ‘ Spirit of Hospitality.’ This is Monday. 
Let me see — suppose we say Thursday.” 

“ How, Paul ! ” — expostulatory. 

“ Everything can be ready in that time, new dresses 
for the young ladies included, if they want them. 
My dear mamma, don’t make that dismal face if you 
can help it — it entirely spoils your good looks, and 
Dr. Leach told me yesterday you were a fine-look- 
ing woman.” 

Madam relaxed into a smile — no such monster as 
a woman insensible to flattery ever yet existed. 

“ Dr. Leach is a simpleton, and Dr. Stuart is an- 
other. What do you want this dinner party for, 
Paul % It is something more than a mere whim, I’m 
sure.” 

“So it is. Well, I’ll tell you. The good people 
of Torwoodtown, it appears, are dying to know 
what the new Miss Torwoods are like, and it is only 
a common Christian act to keep them from expiring 
of curiosity. Besides, the world will think you in- 
tend keeping them shut up like nuns in cells. Oh, 
you must give the dinner party.” 

That like the fiat of a king, decided it. In- 
vitations were issued for the following Thursday to 


126 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


the most exclusive of Torwoodtown elite^ and the 
most exclusive of Torwoodtown elite were only too 
happy to accept. Mr. and Mrs. Lawyer Graves and 
the three Misses Graves sent a perfumed note of ac- 
ceptance ; so did Dr. Leach, so did the Rev. Adonis 
Breeze, the Episcopal clergyman; so did Mr. and 
Mrs. Emory, who lived in a lovely villa, and had a 
house in Baltimore for the winter, and who had 
more money than they knew wtat to do with ; so 
did young Mr. Moreen, whose father was a senator, 
and who came to Torwoodtown every season to fish, 
and shoot, and smoke cigars, and make eyes at the 
pretty girls; so did the Rev. Mr. McPherson, so did 
Mr. Angus Torwood, so did Mr. Giaccomo St. Leon ; 
and all who were not invited, and hoped to have 
been, were nearly frantic with jealousy. Somebody 
else was nearly frantic too — old Aun> Ghloe, the 
cook, who for thirty years and upward had never 
heard of a dinner party at Torwood Towers. But 
here Lucy came to the rescue. 

“Never mind, auntie,” she said, with her good- 
natured little laugh, “ you attend to your hares, and 
turkeys, and chickens, and roast beef, and the rest 
of the heavy atillery, and I will devote myself to the 
jellies, and custards, and pastry, and blanc-mange. 
Don’t fret — between us it will be a success, never 
fear.” 

So pretty Lucy, down in the kitchen region, in a 
dainty calico wrapper, her sleeves rolled up over the 
dimpled elbows, her pink cheeks flushed scarlet, beat 
eggs, and wbipj)ed jellies, and made ice-cream, and 
was entirely invisible up-stairs. The three younger 
Misses Torwood were of very little use in these days 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 127 

of preparation. Edith played Mendelssohn and 
Beethoven’s grandest arias in a way that would have 
sent those composers themselves into ecstatic rapture 
could they have heard her. The parlor organ 
whereupon Judge Tor wood’s second wife used to 
play during the few brief years she spent at the 
Towers, and which had lain in the library unused 
ever since, had been repaired, and occupied a corner 
of the drawing-room now, and wonderful were the 
melodies the Creole girl’s fingers drew from its old 
keys. Florence lounged in easy-chairs, or lolled on 
sofas all day long, yawning over novels, or eating 
candies, of which she generally kept a peck or so 
about her for daily consumption, or lisping milk-and- 
water small talk to her nearest neighbor. And, 
Madge rode over the country, and sailed over the 
sea, and was here and there and everywhere at once, 
making noise and commotion and banging doors 
wherever she went. 

There were visitors too, at the Towers — Angus 
Torwood, Giaccomo St. Leon, and the Eev. Alexan- 
der McPherson vied with each other in their fre- 
quency and length of their visits, and Dr. Stuart 
was bland as oil with all three, and his mother 
frowned silent disapproval from her throne in the 
chimney corner. Between that dignified lady and 
her three young step-daughters a sort of armed neu- 
trality existed, liable to break out into open warfare 
at any moment. For Lucy, whom nobody could by 
any possibility dislike, her feelings were half liking, 
half contempt ; for Edith, ever since the reading of 
the will and the startling explanation that wound it 
up, she had conceived m almost positiye hatred; 


128 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

Florence she despised too much to hate ; and Madge, 
mad and boisterous, she shrank from with sensitive 
horror and detestation. 

Mr. St. Leon, Edith’s handsome she treated 
with a freezing civility that was altogether thrown 
away on that eminently nonchalant young gentle- 
man, who cared no more for her or her grand airs 
than he did for the barking of his great Newfoundland 
Faust. Perhaps she would have hated him outright, 
with, good, honest, open hatred, as she did Edith, 
only the young man happened to be one of those 
darlings of nature, whom it is simply impossible to 
dislike. He made very little effort to please any one 
and yet he did please ; you liked him without know- 
ing why, and laughed at his jokes, and let him wind 
you round his finger without wishing to resist, al- 
most without knowing you were following his lead. 
It might have been his handsome face — for a hand- 
some face, on a man or Avoman, has a power that 
never fails ; it might have been his very free-and-easy 
Avay of making himself at home with every one, and 
calling people by their Christian name ten minutes 
after being introduced to them. Whatever it Avas, 
the charm existed, subtle and irresistible; and 
Madame TorAvood, exacting and exclusive, smiled 
upon one she felt it her bounden duty to detest. 
She Avas by no means sorry Edith Avas his betrothed 
^she never would have done for her darling Paul’s 
wife, though any of the other three might ; the 
Creole girl was altogether too high-stepping — too 
much like herself, inclined to strike fire and flash at 
a moment’s notice. 

It’s all right,” madam said, shrugging her shoul- 


The sisters of torwood. 


129 


der’s ; nothing is bad but might be worse ! lam 
very glad there is not the slightest chance of that 
disagreeable creature ever being Paul’s wife.” 

So, while some worked and some played, and the 
world went well with both, old Father Time grimly 
tramped on his course, and brought on the eventful 
Thursday afternoon. 

The dining-room of Torwood Towers had not come 
out in such resplendent array within the memory of 
the oldest inhabitants ; and all the servants had 
stolen up, and, standing breathless in the doorway, 
gaped in admiring awe around. Its hangings of 
crimson and gold flashed back the July sunlight ; its 
pictures of fruit, of deer in the cool green heart of 
primeval woods, of huntsmen in pink and scarlet 
chasing them wdth horse and hound ; its carved 
sideboard of golden-grained mahogany, laden with 
silver, cut-glass, and a long array of wine bottles in 
ice ; its great dining-table luxuriously spread with 
still more cut glass and antique silver, and with a 
huge old wassail bowl mounted in the middle, that 
would have held punch for a small regiment, and 
Avas resplendent and dazzling to look at. 

The drawing-room, too, Avas out in its gayest 
glories of curtain, carpet, and easy-chair, Avith a por- 
trait of the late lamented judge over the mantel, 
looking gravely down on all. And there in her easy- 
chair, Avith more of the doAvager duchess air than 
ever, Madame Torwood sat, dressed in black veh^et 
and crape, a diamond breastpin flashing like another 
sun on her icy bosom, and a most marvelous Parisian 
combination of lace and ribbons on her A^ery erect 
head. There, too, Lucy AA^as, with breathing time at 
9 


130 THE SISTER^, OF TORWOOD. 

last, very simply dressed in black silk, with soft 
quillings of lace round the throat, Avide sleeves full 
and flowing, finished Avith undersleeves of misty 
illusion, with no ornaments but a brooch of gold and 
jet, not even a floAver in the pale golden hair. Yet 
somehow she managed to look elegant, ladylike, and 
pretty as a picture in Quakeress attire ; and madam 
had glanced at her Avith a critical eye, and graciously 
said, “ You look very well, indeed, my dear;’’ and 
her son had indorsed the sentiment by a look that 
made Lucy’s color deepen preceptibly. 

There Avas Madge, too, in black barege, loAv-necked 
and short-sleeved, without adornment of any kind, 
dancing in and out, her eyes like black stars, her 
cheeks rosy flame in her impatience for the coming 
of the guests. 

Dr. Stuart was on the piazza with Sancho and his 
meerschaum pipe, taking it all very easy, but with 
one eye and both ears aimed at the drawing-room, 
nevertheless. 

Edith and Florence had not yet made their appear- 
ance ; the former Avas Avalking up and down her room 
listening for the gallop of a certain horse, the sound 
of a certain voice, that was to bring her doAvns-tairs ; 
and Florence, in the next room, Avas under the hands 
of Mademoiselle Fifine, the French maid. 

It Avas transport, mademoiselle said, to have any- 
body so exceeding lovely as Miss Florence to dress ; 
and she curled the golden hair and tAvined it in and 
out Avith rosebuds and verbena, and untied ribbons 
and clasped bracelets all in an ecstasy of admiring 
enthusiasm. No Avonder, ten minutes after she 
ceased, a vision floated doAvn to the drawing-room 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. I3I 

more bewildering than anything ever seen out of 
fairyland or a novel. A vision in translucent white, 
so filmy an<l floating that it waved round her like a 
cloud of mist ; pale oriental pearls glowing with dewy 
luster on the lovely uncovered neck, on the round- 
ed snow-white arms, and clasping, like congealed 
moonrays, the flowers in her hair. Down over all 
fell the shimmering curls, like an amber veil, to the 
round plump waist, clasped by a dainty black belt, 
flashing with seed pearls, and the blue eyes had 
never been so starry, nor the rose-bloom so deli- 
cately deep on the round cheeks before. The jeweled 
fingers toyed with a jeweled fan, and from the toe 
of her slippered foot to the crown of her golden 
head, the silver shining vision was dazzling to look 
at. Pretty girls were coming that day, but she 
would be among them a sun among stars. Lucy’s 
quiet prettiness paled and waned into nothingness 
the moment she appeared, and even madam’s cold 
eyes were betrayed into one flash of involuntary 
admiration. Dr. Stuart took the amber mouthpiece 
of his pipe from between his lips and gazed on her 
as on a picture, so lovely that you feared to breathe 
lest it vanish altogether. 

“ Oh, isn’t she splendid ? ” Madge whispered in 
his ear. She is beautiful enough to be put under a 
glass-case and taken round the country for a show. 
How’s your heart — stove in ? ” 

“Haven’t the faintest shadow of such a thing 
about me. I, never saw anything so lovely in my 
life.” 

“ I declare it's a shame ! ” Madge resentfully broke 
out, struck with sudden indignation. “ What busi- 


13^ The sfsTERs of torwood. 

ness had she monopolizing beauty enough for a 
dozen, and Edith and Lucy, not to speak of myself, 
the most deserving of all, to be stigmatized at the 
best as ‘ not bad-looking.’ It’s a crying shame, and 
I feel slighted by nature — I do so ! ” 

“ My dear Madge, don’t torment yourself ! You 
are pretty enough for anything, and so is Lucy, and 
even Edith ” 

He stopped suddenly — a horseman was riding leis- 
urely down the bridle-path, and there was a rustle 
and flutter, and a faint odor of delicate perfume be- 
hind him. Miss Edith, in black crape, a foreign- 
looking velvet jacket, its flowing sleeves slashed to 
the elbow with white satin, the gold chain and cross 
set with rubies in her breast, and scarlet geranium- 
blossoms in her shining dark hair, Avas standing in the 
doorway, dark and haughty, and of marble to him, 
but AAuth eyes that shone Avith lustrous light for the 
slow horseman riding so much at his ease down hill. 
Dr. Stuart rose up and offered his seat Avith a cour- 
teous bow ; but from him the scornful young sultana 
would not even accept a chair. 

“ Thank you, no ! ” she said, sweeping past him, 
her long lashes drooping coldly over her proud eyes ; 
and leaning lightly against a pillar, she toyed Avith 
the clusters of sAA^eetbrier blossoms groAving round it, 
and Avaited for the horseman to come up. 

Slapping his boots Avith his riding whip, and Avhis- 
tling a tune, he sauntered up the steps in his own 
easy fashion, and took off his hat to the ladies. 

“ Good afternoon, Edith — good afternoon. Doctor. 
Ah ! Miss Smith, you here ; how do you do ? ” 

“ Salubrious, thank you,” Madge said, Avith graw 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 133 

ity, and Edith looked from one to the other, puz- 
zled. 

‘‘ Why do you call her Miss Smith, Giaccomo ? I 
have heard you do it before, and she answers as if 
it were her name.” 

Mr. St. Leon, slapping his boot still, gave Madge 
a sidelong glance from his dark eyes, as he observed, 
‘‘ I have had the pleasure of meeting the young lady 
before I came here at all, and her name was Miss 
Smith then — at least she told me so, and I never 
doubt a lady’s word. Am I first ? Yery unfashion- 
able; but the cigars over there at the hotel are 
enough to kill a horse, so I only smoked half a 
dozen or so, and then was obliged to leave off, and 
come here. I saw Torwood and McPherson on my 
way. Ah ! there they are jogging along together 
now. I suppose I had better go in and pay my 
respects to madam.” 

Resigning his whip and his whistling, he strolled 
in with Edith, and Dr. Stuart looked after them 
with that doubtful smile of his, that puzzled you 
for its meaning. Looking down again, he found 
Madge’s black eyi3s staring at him with curious in- 
tentness. 

“ Well ? ” he said, the smile deepening on his face. 

“ What makes you look so ? ” demanded blunt 
Madge. I hate that queer laugh of yours, when 
there’s nothing in the world to grin at. I should 
like to know what you see so funny about Jackeymo 
St. Leon and our Edith.” 

“ My dear little termagant, how do you know I 
was laughing at them ? ” 

Because I do ! I can see as far into a millstone 


134 the sisters of torwood.. 

as the man that made it ! What’s more, Dr. Paul 
Stuart,” with a flash of her black eyes that reminded 
him of Edith, ‘‘ I know what you are thinking of ! ” 

“ Paul and Madge Torwood are among the 
prophets ! Out with it, my little Witch of Endor.” 

Madge, with her great eyes fixed piercingly on 
his face, was wonderfully grave for her. “Dr. 
Stuart, look here,” she said abruptly, “ you knew 
Florence before you saw her here .” 

“ Did I ? ” 

“ You know you did ! How was it? ” 

“ Ask Florence.” 

“ I have, dozens of times.” 

“ And what did she say ? ” said Dr. Stuart, with 
the smile Madge disliked in his face again. 

“ Turned as red as a beet, and told lies — said she 
never saw you or heard of you before the other day 
when the will was read. I hate people that won’t 
tell the truth ! ” 

“ The truth should not always be told, my dear,” 
he said. 

Madge gave him an angry flash of the eye that 
reminded him more and more of her Creole sister ; 
but he only laughed good-naturedly, and ran down- 
stairs to meet Messrs. McPherson and Torwood. 

Madge, with some thoughts of her own not very 
pleasant shadowing her bright face, went into the 
drawing-room, where Edith was at the piano sing- 
ing some Spanish song St. Leon liked, as only Edith 
could sing ; where Lucy, in a window recess, never 
idle, was bending over embroidery, and where Flor- 
ence sat beside St. Leon on the sofa, and looked 
languidly at a book of prints he had brought to 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 135 

her. A strikingly handsome pair they made, and 
very well content they looked. The shade darkened 
more and more on Madge’s face, and going over 
to the piano she stood beside Edith, and watched 
her while she sang. 

And now the other guests were coming, and 
Edith left the piano. St. Leon made room for her 
on the sofa, but she only smiled, and went over to 
Cousin Angus, while Mr. McPherson devoted him- 
self to Madge, and Dr. Stuart sought out Lucy in 
her window, and began taking private lessons in 
embroidery, and in something else, his mother 
hoped. One by one the carriages drove over the 
hill, and Madame Tor wood, stately and stiff, was 
'' welcoming her guests until the drawing-room was 
filled and all had arrived. The sisters of Tor- 
wood were playing the agreeable to the Uite of 
Torwoodtown — Lucy, very sweetly ; Edith, like a 
princess royal among her subjects ; Florence, with 
a flow of listless tittle-tattle, chiefly about the 
weather : and Madge, coming out of her crossness, 
had something to say to every one. On these oc- 
casions the half hour before dinner is generally 
fearfully stupid, and though all were doing their 
best to talk and be exceedingly at ease, no one was 
sorry when dinner was announced. 

Madame Torwood was led in by the Eev. Adonis 
Breeze, who, like half the other young men pres- 
ent, was desperately smitten with Florence ; her 
son bore on his arm Mrs. Lawyer Graves. Mr. 
Lawyer Graves took Miss Torwood, Edith leaned 
on the arm of Cousin Angus,. Florence, followed 
with St. Leon, and Madge stepped along with 


136 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

young Mr. Moreen, whom she had fascinated in 
five minutes by her black eyes and spirited style 
of conversation. Of course the dinner was like all 
other dinners — small talk and clattering knives and 
rattling forks, glassware clashing with the usual 
amount of laughing, whispering, and flirting. 

Madge, to whom it was all new, was in a high 
state of rapturous excitement ; but while she kept 
one ear devoted to the service of Mr. Moreen, the 
other and both eyes were aimed at Giaccomo St. 
Leon and Miss Florence. St. Leon was telling won- 
derful stories of hunting buffalo out West, of a trip 
he had made in a yacht up the Mediterranean, of a 
winter spent in Constantinople, and of life among 
the dark-eyed senoritas of Havana ; but there were 
moments of intermission when he found time to 
lower his voice, and talk of other things to Flor- 
ence. 

Some one else was on the alert, too — Dr. Stuart 
found time to look that way now and then, and 
exchange glances with Madge, that said plainly as 
words, ‘‘ I see what is coming, and so do you.” 


THE SISTERS OR TORWOOD. 


137 


CHAPTEK XI. 

The minister’s three reasons. 

Dinner was over, and they were all back in the 
drawing-room. Music and singing followed. Edith 
held every one spell-bound while her magic fingers 
swept the keys — even the admirers of Florence for- 
got her for the time beirg, and were entranced 
like the rest. Other young ladies played and sang, 
most of them at that “ dear, sweet, handsome love 
of a man,” Mr. St. Leon ; but their exhibitions were 
very jingly and schoolgirlish after Edith Torwood, 
and failed to make the slightest impression on that 
eminently handsome young gentleman. The papas 
and mammas played cards and sipped coffee ; and 
old Time, mowing down his ten thousands some- 
where, only spread roses at Torwood Towers, until 
the hour for breaking up came. 

Then there was hand-shaking and leave-taking, 
and in the light of the young July moon carriage 
after carriage rolled away, and the banquet hall was 
deserted. 

Three of the guests lingered, the three who came 
first, and the night being lovely, and the drawing- 
room warm, they strolled out with the young ladies 
on the piazza. Lucy, Edith, Florence, and Madge 
went down into the grounds, and Messrs. St. Leon 
and Torwood went with them. Dr. Stuart and the 


138 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

Rev. Alexander McPherson walked up and down the 
piazza, arm and arm, the former inveterate smoker 
with a cigar in his lips, and the later looking at the 
group below, and taking thoughtful pinches of snuff. 

‘‘ Very pretty tableau,” Dr. Stuart said, knocking 
off the ashes of his cigar with his little finger. 
“ Good scenery, nice moonlight, lovely women, and 
brave men ! Would I were an artist ! ” 

‘‘ What do you think of that good-looking young 
man with the foreign name ? ” Mr. McPherson 
asked. 

“ I think with you, that he is a good-looking 
young man.” 

“ Nothing more ? ” 

Yes, that the second Miss Torwood is desperately, 
hopelessly, and irretrievably in love with him.” 

Mr. McPherson looked meditative. 

“ I tell you what, Stuart, she’s a fine girl that — 
plucky and spirited, as girls ought to be. Nothing 
flat or insipid about her, as there is about — but com- 
parisons are odious ; I won’t say it.” 

I’ll say it for you, then — as there is about Lucy 
and Florence. Yes ; whoever marries Miss Edith 
will find the gray mare in his stable the better 
horse. How she did fire up about that will, eh ? ” 

“ She had a right to.” 

“ And her entrance with our good-looking friend 
down there was quite theatrical ; no actress on the 
stage could have done it better. The scene couldn’t 
have been better got up at any price.” 

“ Dr. Stuart,” Mr. McPherson gravely said, “ I 
don’t like your tone in speaking of that young lady. 
She’s a fine girl, high mettled, and a trifle proud, but 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 139 

with the ring of the right sort about her. It’s a 
great pity ” he stopped abruptly. 

“ What’s a pity ? ” 

“ That she should throw herself away on that fop 
down there, Avho isn’t worthy to tie the latch of her 
shoe.” 

‘‘ My dear fellow,” said Dr. Stuart, puffing away 
vigorously, don’t you know it is not always your 
fine girls that have lots of sense on these subjects. 
Women are quite as much slaves of their eyes as 
men, and what matters that fellow’s empty head so 
long as it is fronted by a handsome face.” 

“ It’s a great pity, a great pity ! she will never be 
happy with him. Miss Florence would suit him far 
better.” 

Dr. Stuart laughed. 

“ His own opinion, precisely, my friend ! By the 
way, what a lovely creature she is — isn’t she ? ” 

“Very pretty, indeed, and just the wife for Mr. 
St. Leon.” 

“ Ah ! I don’t know about that ! I think I have 
a prior claim there.” 

“ You ? Humph ! that reminds me I quite forgot 
to ask you where you ever met her before ? ” 

How do you know I have had that pleasure ? ” 

“ For the simple reason that young ladies do not 
generally blush scarlet at sight of an entire stranger. 
You did not meet Miss Florence Tor wood four da3^s 
ago for the first time. Don’t tell me if you have 
the least objection ; but don’t tell white lies in deny- 
ing the fact.” 

Some ludicrous recollection seemed to fiash on the 
young doctor, for, raking his cigar between his 


140 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

finger and thumb, he broke into an immoderate fit 
of laughter. Mr. McPherson eyed him stoically. 

“ I thought so. Are you going to tell me about 

it r’ 

“ Couldn’t possibly ! ” said Dr. Stuart, still laugh- 
ing ; “ she mightn’t like it. But, seriously now, my 
dear fellow, as I have to marry one of theso bloom- 
ing sisters, why should I not select the most blooming 
of the lot ? I could not find a prettier wife on this 
hemisphere than our belle blonde, Florence — why 
should I not take her.” 

For three simple reasons.” 

‘‘ Name them.” 

‘‘ First, because she would not have you ! She 
likes the little finger of that handsome imbecile 
down there better than your whole body.” 

Good ! I don’t set up fora beauty. What’s the 
next ? ” 

“You wouldn’t have her if she were ten times as 
beautiful, and hung with diamonds from head to 
foot.” 

“ My dear fellow — ” half laughing, half expostu- 
latory, but Mr. McPherson, rapping the ground with 
his cane, cut emphatically in : 

“ I tell you you would not, and you know it. 
If ever you marry one of these sisters, Florence is 
not the one. Edith would suit you far better.” 

“ My dear McPherson, what are you thinking of ? 
Miss Edith would not touch me with a pair of tongs. 
Besides, she’s infatuated about St. Leon, adores the 
ground he walks on, et cetera ! What a pity you 
and I are not good-looking — eh ? ” with a careless 
laugh. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. I4I 

“ There’s Lucy, then,” suggested the minister. 

“ So she is — as sweet as maple sugar at that. But 
I thought you were a little tender there — had a 
prior claim, or something.” 

“ Never mind ; I’ll forego my claim in your favor; 
or if she won’t do, take Madge. Capital girl is 
Madge, though rather given to bounce.” 

“Yes, and I don’t like bouncing wives. It’s going 
to be a hard matter to choose, and I have only six 
months to work in. I think I’ll consult Cousin 
Angus on the subject.” 

“ I don’t thiuk you will, unless it’s on the subject 
of privately assassinating Mr. St. Leon. He would 
assist you to do that, with the greatest pleasure.” 

“ My dear McPherson, what a penetrating fellow 
you are! Jealousy is a green-eyed lobster, as I 
heard Madge say the other day ; and Cousin Angus 
likes Cousin Edith a trifle too well to have much love 
left for her betrothed.” 

“A fact of Avhich she is entirely ignorant! 
Wheels within wheels ; and business is getting com- 
plicated,” said Mr. McPherson. 

“ The skein has run smoothly hitherto, but the 
tangle is at hand, and when it comes won’t there be 
an uproar ! ” 

“ When what comes ? ” 

“ Never mind ; I flatter myself I have a knack of 
looking into futurity — 

“ ‘ Tis the evening of life gives me mystical lore, 

And coming events cast their shadows before.’ 

The shadows are lengthening fast — the events are 
close at hand,” 


142 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


“ I don’t understand.” 

I can’t help that. Suppose we go down and join 
them. I begin to feel jealous.” 

‘‘ I am going to join my pony and go home. 
Good night, doctor. When 3^ou make up^^our mind 
which to marry let me know.” 

He went down the piazza stairs in his usual 
slouching fashion, and joined- the group on the lawn. 
Dr. Stuart, leaning over the railing, watched them — 
watched the four sisters, fair Lucy, dark Madge, 
fickle Florence, and haughty Edith, and the old 
doubtful smile was back on his face again. 

“Yes,” was his thought, “if I ever marry it shall 
be one of the sisters of Torwood, and I think — I 
think I know which one it will be.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


143 


CHAPTEK XII. 

MYSTERY. 

The July sun glimmered redly across the broad 
face of the bay as it set in the threatening sky, 
Avhere black sullen clouds lowered, ominous of 
coming storm. Xot a breath of air stirred the long 
rank grass in the lonely arid meadow, where the 
dull cows grazed all day ; not the faintest breeze 
stirred the honeysuckle, or scarlet runner, that lifted 
its blood-red stars into the window at which Edith 
Torwood sat, her thoughtful face resting on her 
hand, her eyes wandering dreamily over the wide 
sea. It was in her own pretty room she sat, with 
its pictures, and its books, and its little cottage piano 
in a shady corner ; its birds, its flowers, and a thou- 
sand-and-one daily, useless, charming trifles a woman 
loves to gather round her. 

The window was wide open to catch the breeze 
that came not, and Edith, watching the sun go down, 
red and lurid in a sullen and angry sky, was think- 
ing of the life she had left behind in sunny Cuba, of 
her present life among those at once strangers and 
relatives, and of the life to come, not beyond the 
grave, but as the bride of St. Leon. How long the 
two weeks she had spent at Torwood Towers seem- 
ed, and how few friends she had made. One would 
have thought she and Lucy, gentle, loving Lucy, 


144 the sisters of torwood. 

would have been bosom friends and confidantes ; but 
things never turn out iu this Avorld as one might 
reasonably expect, but, strange to say, Edith had 
taken a violent and most causeless prejudice against 
her elder sister, as she had also against Dr. Stuart, 
and was like a block of marble to both. One might 
likewise think that Madge, who personally resembled 
her most of all, and whose frank, open nature 
made her universally liked, would have been her pet 
and favorite, but here again reasonable expecta- 
tion was at fault. Florence — fair, fickle, selfish 
shallow, inane Florence — she had taken for her dar- 
ling, the only inmate of Torwood Towers she more 
than tolerated. In no one single respect, mentally, 
morally, or physically were they alike; but ex- 
tremes meet, and perhaps for that very reason, 
Edith half idolized her. Her beauty, too, might 
have had something to do with it. The hot blooded 
Creole adored beauty, and would sit for hours dip- 
ping her fingers in the golden rings of hair, or play 
ing lady’s maid to the fair Florence. All this suited 
the third Miss Torwood very well, and she liked to 
be with Edith, and share her room and her jewelry, 
and the contents of her confection box. Florence 
was a rank gourmand, any one could reach her heart 
through her palate ; but whether she had any real 
affection for the sister who loved her so, was quite 
another question. For the rest, Madge she disliked 
excessively, Madame Torwood she dreaded, Dr. 
Stuart she shrank from visibly, Lucy, and the cook 
she liked very well, and that was about the extent 
of it. There was enough rosy flesh and bounding 
blood in Florence Torwood^ but very little heart 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. I45 

The crimson sunset was still flaring itself out in the 
sky, when Edith rose with a long-drawn breath, as 
if from a trance, and seated herself at the open 
piano. Something in the dark glory of the evening 
must have been in her heart, for she struck into 
Mendelssohn’s hymn of praise. “ Let all that has 
life and breath sing to the Lord.” Grandly, glori- 
ously, the sublime words and sublimer music floated 
out through the still halls and passages, dying away 
at last in a faint, sweet sigh. 

As her inspired Angers dropped from the keys, the 
door opened unceremoniously, and Miss Florence 
came in with a lovely bouquet of snow-white roses 
and glowing carnations in her hand, looking pretty 
as a picture in her white muslin dress, her hair hang- 
ing damp and half uncurled over her bare shoulders. 
She stared in transient amaze at Edith, who wel- 
comed her with a glad smile. 

“You here, Edith! I thought you were over in 
Torwoodtown. ” 

“ So I was, ma helle^ but I am back. What lovely 
roses ! Where did you get them ? ” 

Florence bent over the flowers, and touched their 
cool petals with her lips. Was it the shade of the 
carnations, or had the ever-ready blood risen red to 
her face, when she answered : 

“ I got them from Mr. St. Leon. He brought 
them for you, I suppose, and as he could not see 
you, he gave them to me.” 

“ Giaccomo here ! ” exclaimed Edith, in a tone of 
vexation ; “ and I wanted to see him particularly. 
Why did he not come in ? ” 

“ Lucy said you were over in Torwoodtown. He 
10 


146 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

only went ten minutes ago. Mr. Torwood was here, 
too.” 

“ Too bad ! Lucy might have looked, I think, be- 
fore being so positive. I came home half an hour 
ago. Did he say he brought these flowers for me ? ” 
‘‘Ko; but of course he did. I wasn’t speaking 
to him flve minutes, for just then that horrid Dr. 
Stuart came along, and I ran away.” 

Edith laughed. 

“ How frightened you are of that terrible doctor, 
my dear ! What has he ever done to you ? ” 

“ Oh, nothing.” 

Why do yon blush, then, every time you catch 
his eye ? and what is the meaning of that odd smile 
of his when he looks at you ? ” 

Florence jerked herself uneasily in her chair and 
pouted. 

“ You knew him before you came here ? Confess, 
my darling,” Edith said, bending half laughingly 
over her. 

“ Well, yes then ! if you will have it,” cried Flor- 
ence impatiently, ‘‘and I hate the sight of him — I do.” 

“ I don’t particularly love him mj^self,” said Edith, 
her scornful lips curling; “tell me all about it. ” 

“ It is not much to tell, but such things make me 
feel horrid. It was at school. Mademoiselle De 
Juponville, stingy thing ! used to half starve us girls 
— they always do at boarding-schools, you know. 
Now what are you laughing at ? ” 

“ Never mind, ” said Edith, who was looking at her 
sister’s plump proportion and round red cheeks ; 
“you don’t look much like a half-starved subject, 
that’s all.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWoOD. 147 

“ Well, no matter about that,'’ said Florence, 
testily ; “we were half starved — kept on transparent 
slices of bread and butter, and such tea! AYell, 
whenever we got a chance, you know, vve used to 
make up for it by feasting on the sly. And what 
do you think ? one night we ate so much pastry and 
rich cake, we were all awfully sick next day. Made- 
moiselle, who was scared pretty nearly into fits, 
thought the cholera had broken loose in the school, 
and sent in hot haste for a doctor. The doctor came 
and who do you suppose he was?” 

Dr. Paui Stuart,” laughed Edith. 

“Yes, indeed, and he kept questioning and ques- 
tioning — hateful, prying thing! — until Jane Gore, 
who never could keep a secret, blurted the whole 
thins: out. 1 declare I was fit to die of shame ! and 

o 

the nasty thing made us each swallow an emetic, 
or something that nearly killed us ! I hate the sight 
of him ever since ! ” 

Edith laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. 

“ I don’t wonder ! Did you never see him again 
until you met him here ? ” 

“ ISTo, never. They say I blushed like anything 
I am sure it was no wonder.” 

“ Not the least ; and that’s the wonderful secret ! 
What a dull story,” and she laughed again. 

“ Oh, yes, its very funny, I dare say,” said Flor- 
ence, testily ; “ but if you were in my place, I guess 
you wouldn’t see anything to laugh at. Every time 
he looks at me, especially at table, with that dis- 
agreeable smile of his, he always seems saying, 
‘ Don’t eat too much, or I’ll give you another emetie. 
I w'ish he was in Jericho— I do ! ” 


148 THE SISTERS OP TORWOOD. 

So do I ! Of all the mean creatures — but there, 
I won’t detract. Come, let us go out ; I have no 
patience to stay in this house when I think of him, 
and know it may be his some day. Florence, don’t 
you ever marry him,*’ almost fiercely, and with a 
terrible light in the gray eyes, “ or I will never for- 
give you ! ” 

“ Law ! ” lisped Florence, who had caught the 
word from Madge, “ what an idea ! I am sure 
I always feel like running a mile at sight of 
him. Besides, he’s not a bit good-looking, and I 
wouldn’t marry any but a handsome man for the 
world.” 

“ My pretty sister,” Edith smiled, passing her 
arm round the other’s waist, ‘‘ you are lovely enough 
to marry a prince. What a close evening it is. Let 
us go out to the garden.” 

The air was almost as oppressively close in the 
grounds as in the house— not a breeze stirred the 
leaves of the trees, rustled the tall, parched grass, 
or moved the drooping and wilted flowers. The 
sun had sunk, a scarlet and inflamed ball, in a lurid 
sky alternately barred with black and red, and the 
ominous warning of coming tempest sounded in the 
smothered booming of the sea. The girls valked 
down the long, dark avenue leading to the shore, a 
darker shadow than that cast by the gloomy trees 
on the face of one— Edith. People of sensitive, ner- 
vous temperaments feel storm and danger before 
it comes, and vague presentiments were thrilling 
through the Creole girl’s heart. Even Florence, al- 
beit not of the sensitive kind, drew within herself 
with a sort of shiver. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 149 

“ Some one is walking over my grave ! ” she said. 
“ What a dismal place ! Do let ns go back.” 

‘‘Not yet; I like this dark, lonely walk — I like 
this eerie and ghostly evening. It suits me.” 

“ You are easily suited then ; it gives me the 
horrors! A murder might be committed among 
these black trees, and no one be the wiser ! I do 
believe it is haunted.” 

“ Are you superstitious, too, Florence ? Do you 
belive in ghosts 

Florence gave a little scream, and clutched Edith’s 
arm. 

“How can you talk of such things here! You 
frighten me to death ! Do let us go away.” 

Edith turned reluctantly. As she said, the place 
suited her — she took a morbid pleasure in its dismal 
gloom. The perpetual moan of the ceaseless sea, 
the unbroken loneliness and silence of the arid 
meadows, the black cedar woods, and the mysterious 
murmurings of the tall trees around, had a weird 
and mystic charm for her. They suited this over- 
cast and ominous evening, too, heavy with forebod- 
ings, and with regret she turned to go. 

“ Ever since I came here, my pretty sister,” she 
said, lovingly, holding Florence round the waist, 
“ this place has had a charm for me. I love to lie 
under the trees listening to the waves and the fisher- 
men’s songs, and yet ” 

“Yet what? You’re the greatest oddity, Edith,” 
Florence said, plaintively, sniffing at her flowers. 

“ Am I ? I dare say I am, but my oddity was 
born with me. Do you know,” she said, speaking 
put as if from a sudden inapulse^ “ I sometimes think 


I50 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

I will never go back to Cuba again. Oh, my dear, 
beautiful Cuba! Avhere I was so very, very happy, 
and where no odious stepmothers and detestable 
sons ever came.” 

Florence started in her weak way. 

“ Law 1 and what makes you think you will never 
go back?” 

Because,” and Edith’s dark face was full of som- 
ber prophecy, and her solemn gray eyes full of 
strange light, ‘‘ because, Florence, dear, I think 1 
am to die here ! ” 

Florence gave another horrified little shriek, 
“ Good gracious, Edith 1 Avhat horrid things 3 ^ou do 
say ! You haven’t consumption, or heart disease, la 
grippe, or anything of that sort, have you ?” 

Edith laughed in spite of her gloom. 

“ Thank heaven, no ! I never v»^as sick a Aveek in 
my Avhole life. No, it is not that ; it is a presenti- 
ment, a foreboding, a Avarning of something to come. 
Perhaps I am Aveak, morbid, superstitious, but it is 
there, and Avill not be banished.” 

“ Dear me ! ” lisped Florence, shrugging her 
shoulders, “ hoAv odd, and hoAV disagreeable of you 
to talk of such things to me in this gloomy place. 
You have made me decidedly nerA^ons.” 

Something flashed through Edith’s mind about 
casting pearls before SAvine,but she banished it, and, 
stooping Avith a forced laugh, kissed the pretty, 
pouting face. 

I am selfish to talk of such ghastly things to 
you, my darling ; but it came out without my mean- 
ing it. How do you like being here? — does Tor- 
wood ToAvers suit you?” asked Edith, 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 151 

“ Suit me ! ” resentfully exclaimed Florence. “ I 
tell you I hate it. Of all the dull, tiresome, stupid, 
hateful holes — ” 

A gesture finished the sentence, for which she 
could find no words sufficiently strong. 

“ Dull it certainly is,” said Edith, looking round ; 
“ but still I like it. It is not the place for you, 
though.” 

“ It is not the place for any one in her senses. It 
is nothing but an old tomb, smelling like a vault of 
must and rats. Even the boarding-school was ever 
so much better than this.” 

“ What will you do Avhen I go back to Cuba ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” drearily. ‘‘ I shall die.” 

No, you will not ; belle Florence, pretty sister, you 
shall come with me when I go back to Cuba a bride.” 

“ You will never go back to Cuba a bride,” a hol- 
low voice said. 

They had reached the end of the avenue, and were 
near the shrubbery, a place dark and dense as the 
heart of a primeval forest, and from its wooded 
depths the hollow voice had come. 

With a wild shriek of affright, Florence turned 
and sped off like a bolt from a bow ; but Edith, 
with every trace of color fading from cheeks and 
lips, stood like a stone. 

“You never will go back to Cuba a bride, Edith 
Torwood,” the hollow voice repeated, and then there 
was a plunging and crashing within the shrubbery, 
and something tall and black went rapidly by and 
disappeared in the evening gloom. 

Edith stood like a statue, as white and nearly as 
cold as death, 


152 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

A voice at her elbow aroused her. 

‘‘ Miss Edith, what is the matter ? Are you ill ? ” 

She turned slowly, and at the sight of Dr. Stuart’s 
anxious face, momentarily suspended consciousness 
came slowly back. 

‘‘ No,” she said, turning to go ; but he followed 
her. 

‘‘ I met Florence just now, running for her life, 
and screaming appallingly, and I find you standing 
like a galvanized corpse. Will you not tell me what 
has frightened you ? ” 

“No,” she reiterated, coldly; and passing him 
with a bow his mother could not have surpassed in 
freezing hauteur, she went up the piazza steps to the 
house. 

In the doorway she was confronted by the pale 
and startled face of Lucy. 

“ Edith, what is this Florence tells me ? You are 
as pale as a ghost.” 

“ It is nothing. Some one has been playing a 
practical joke ; that is all. Where is Madge ? ” 

“ Out sailing ; it is no joke of hers.” 

“ Some of the negroes then. You need not wear 
that frightened face. I tell you it is nothing.” 

“But you look so dreadful.” 

“ Do I ? lam foolish and nervous, and it startled 
me at first. I am going to my room now, and will 
not be down again this evening.” 

“ But Mr. St. Leon and Mr. Tor wood left word 
they were going to call.” 

“ Make my excuses then. I am not fit to appear. 
This ridiculous affair has unstrung my nerves, 
Where is Florence?” 


THE SISTERS OE TORWOOD. 1 53 

“ Up in your room, nearly out of her wits with 
fright. Can I do anything for you ? ” 

‘‘ Thank you. Tell Mr. St. Leon to come again to- 
morrow. Good-night.” 

“ Good-night,” Lucy said, looking anxiously after 
her, as she toiled wearily up-stairs. “ I wonder 
what it could have been.” 

“ So do I,” said Dr. Stuart, making his appear- 
ance ; ‘‘ have they not told you, either ? ” 

“ Florence says they saw a ghost in the shrubbery, 
and Edith says some one has been playing a practi- 
cal joke, and both seem half scared to death.” 

‘‘ I think Miss Edith’s version is apt to be nearer 
the truth. How dark that sky is ; we will have a 
storm to-morrow.” 

‘‘ There come Mr. St. Leon and Mr. Torwood. 
If they stay late they will be caught in the storm 
going home,” said Lucy, entering the house to have 
all the doors and shutters and windows made fast, 
in expectation of the coming tempest. 

Florence, notwithstanding her terrors, and palpi- 
tations, and hysterics, managed to make her appear- 
ance in the drawing-room in a most bewitching toilet, 
but Edith was miserable all evening. The visitors 
were disappointed, of course, but they managed to 
stay until nearly eleven, nevertheless. 

The coming storm was still mute in the troubled 
sky, and Dr. Stuart, lighting a cigar, walked up and 
down the piazza for nearly an hour. 

It was a dark, sultry night, not made for sleep, 
with a watery, sickly moon glimmering palely 
through banks of clouds, and a phosphorescent light 
in the stagnant air. The sounds of silence, the chirp 


154 the sisters of torwood. 

of a bird in its nest, the slipping of a snake in the 
woods, the cracking of a dry branch, the ticking of 
a clock in the hall, all were strangely loud in the 
midnight gloom. 

Twelve pealed sharply from the clock in the hall. 
Dr. Stuart flung away his smoked out cigar, and was 
turning to go in when an unexpected sight caught 
his eye and arrested his step. 

A chamber window opening on the piazza softly 
swung out, a figure, slender and girlish in spite of 
the shrouding mantle that draped it, stepped out, 
and looked cautiously around. 

The young doctor drew back, and leaned against 
a pillar ; its shade hid him completely. . The dark 
figure glided by, its garments almost touching him, 
went down the piazza stairs, and made straight for 
the shrubbery. 

Another dark form rose up at its approach, and 
for half an hour and upward the two stood together, 
two black shadows among the other black shadows 
around. And then they parted — one vanishing 
among the trees, the other returning to the house. 
Once again her dress brushed the doctor in passing, 
and he watched her glide in through the open win- 
<]ow, heard it softly close, and then he stepped out, 
and took off his hat to let the gale, rising now, fan 
his hot brow. The watery moon, breaking from 
behind a black cloud, shone for a moment on a face 
white as ashes. 

“ Can it be,” was his thought, “ that all my worst 
suspicions turn true ? Is one of these sister spos- 
sessed of a demon ? ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


155 


CHAPTER XIII. 

ONE OF Edith’s angels. 

Fetch along the line, Jinks, and fill my cigar-case. 
You are sure Faust had his dinner, eh ? ” 

“ Quite sure, sir.” 

“ That’s right ; and. Jinks, if any one calls for me 
tell him I have gone to Silver Stream for trout. 
Come, Faust.” 

With his wide-awake hat on one side of his head, 
a fishing-rod over his shoulder, and Faust jogging 
along by his side, Mr. St. Leon went off whistling. 
Jinks, the hostler of the Torwoodtown Hotel, 
looked after him, and so did some half dozen loafers 
lounging before the entrance. 

“ Who’s that swell ? ’’ one of them asked. 

“ A foreigner, I guess,” replied Mr. Jinks ; least- 
ways he’s got an all-fired foreign name. Uncom- 
mon nice young gent as ever was he is too, and free 
of his spondulicks as a prince.” 

I wish he had stood treat,” said another loafer ; 
“ he did yesterday for all hands. They say. Jinks, 
he’s sweet upon one of them young ladies at Tor- 
wood Towers.” 

Don’t know,” said Mr. Jinks ; “ he never said 
nothing to me about it : but he goes there I reckon, 
’long with that other black-visaged chap that stops 


156 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

here. He’s good enough for a queen, 1 think my- 
self.” 

Unconscious of Mr. Jinks’ eulogy, Mr. St. Leon 
was walking serenely along toward Silver Stream, 
whistling still, stopping now and then to pat the 
children he met on the head, and throw them cop- 
pers. Short as his stay had been in the town, he had 
managed in that magical way of his to win golden 
opinions from all sorts of people. From the rosy 
giris, who fell in love with his handsome face ; from 
the young men, with whom he was hail fellow well 
met ; from the children, whom he patted and to 
whom he threw the coppers ; from their mammas, 
as a matter of course ; and from the loafers, for 
whom he was always willing to stand drinks all 
round. 

The world and Mr. St. Leon went remarkably 
well with each other, and whistling all the time, he 
reached Silver Stream in half an hour, and threw 
himself lazily on the bank, lighted a cigar, and began 
staring reflectively at vacancy. Evidently he was 
not a very enthusiastic disciple of Izaac Walton, for 
his cigar was smoked out, the stump thrown away, 
and his fishing-rod lay unused still. Faust looked up 
at him with sleepy eyes, and the young man patted 
him on the head. 

“ It’s a bad business, old boy,” he said, ‘‘ and 
hanging, drawing, and quartering would be a great 
deal too good for me ; but I’ll do it, nevertheless. 
It’s fate, I suppose— we’ll say so, at least.” 

He drew from his pocket a note-book and tiny 
inkstand. From between the leaves of the former 
he drew a dainty sheet of note paper— tinted, per- 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 1 57 

fumed, gilt-edged — and, using the note-book for a 
desk, began to write. The letter was in French, 
and began ‘‘ Angel of my Dreams,” and in ten 
minutes three sides were full, and it was ended. 
Deliberately he re-read, folded, put it in an envelope, 
and was just about to write the address, when a 
sudden voice at his elbow caused him to look up. 

So absorbed had he been, that a man’s footstep 
coming through the grass had not reached him, and 
Dr. Stuart was standing by his side, eyeing him with 
composure. 

“ Don’t let me intrude,” he said ; finish your 
manuscript by all means.” 

“ As if I would let a third party glance at my 
love-letters ! ” said Leon, coolly, puting the docu- 
ment and note-book in his pocket. Where did you 
drop from, pray ? ” 

‘‘ I went to your hotel and they told me you were 
here,” replied Dr. Stuart, stretching himself on the 
bank. “ How are you, Faust, old fellow? Do you 
know you are expected at the Towers this after- 
noon ? ” 

I have a hazy remembrance of promising to make 
my appearance there to-day, and thought to do so 
to better advantage by fetching a string of silvery 
and savory trout ; but somehow I don’t progress 
very fast.” 

‘‘ I should think not, indeed ! Hand me the line.” 

Mr. St. Leon lazily did so, and took a more com- 
fortable position on the grass. 

“ And how are they all over there? ” he asked, 
“your lady mother and her four pretty step- 
daughters,” 


15? THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

“ Tolerable — that is, excepting Miss Edith, who 
has to grief somehow lately, it seems to me.” 

“Has she? It’s ages since I saw her. What’s 
gone wrong ? ” 

“ A ghost has been cutting capers in the shrub- 
ber}^, it appears,” said Dr. Stuart, gravely, “ and 
has frightened her and Florence out of a year’s 
growth.” 

“ Indeed ! a live ghost, I suppose — probably that 
very fast young person, Madge.” 

“ I think not ; but I know nothing about it, only 
that both got a rare fright. Have you your cigar- 
case about you? ” 

Mr. St. Leon handed it to him, and then helped 
himself. 

“ It is not easy frightening Edith either,” he re- 
marked, watching the blue smoke curl upward ; 
“ she Avas born like Mrs. Partington, before nerves 
came in fashion. Has the ghost caused all the head- 
aches that have rendered her invisible? ” 

“I fancy so! You are dejected, I suspect, not 
having seen her for eight-and-forty hours. Look at 
that fellow, how he picks ! ” 

“ He’ll break the hook if you’re not careful. No, 
by Jove, you have him ! What an angler you are, 
Stuart 1 Dejected — of course I am, and also is an- 
other friend of yours,” 

“ Mr. Angus Torwood, our interesting and exces- 
sively brigandish cousin ? ” 

“ The same. The fellow’s perfectly infatuated in 
that quarter.” 

“ More fool he to get the steam up so high about 
another man’s property. Still, St. Leon, if you’ll 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 159 

excuse my saying it, he would suit Miss Edith Tor- 
wood far better than you.” 

“ Miss Edith Torwood does not think so,” said St. 
Leon, smoking complacently on, “and her opinion’s 
of some weight in the matter, I take it.” 

“ How long have you been engaged to her ? But 
pardon me; I am growing impertinent.” 

“ My dear fellow,” said Mr. St. Loon, stifling a 
yawn, “make no apologies, I beg. Ask as many 
questions as you please, and I’ll answer. Miss Edith 
Torwood has been fiancee to your humble servant, 
let me see, upward of three months.” 

“ Is that all ? ” Dr. Stuart said, watching thought- 
fully a nibbling trout ; “ and of all four slie is the 
one least suited to you. Florence, now, I should 
think, would do ever so much better.” 

“ All a matter of choice, my dear fellow,” drawled 
St. Leon; “perhaps you prefer blonde beauties, and 
perhaps I don’t. Every man to his taste. There, 
you have another — what a whopper ! ‘’ 

“ Capital stream, this ! Madge and I have spent 
whole days here. By the way, what do you think 
of Madge % ” 

“ That she is a very nice young lady, with whom 
I intend to have nothing whatever to do.” 

“ You are hard to please. I think you had better 
resign Edith, and take Madge — she would make 
a better Mrs. St. Leon.” 

“ I’ll take four-and-twenty hours to consider the 
matter. What confounded cigars ! ITl bring an 
action against those swindlers at the hotel for poison- 
ing society with such execrable weeds — I swear 
I will ! ” 


l6o THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

“ I have smoked better in my time. Where is 
Cousin Angus to-day ? ’’ 

“ As if I knew ! Over at your place, very likely.” 
Making eyes at Edith ! Are you not a little 
jealous ? ” 

“ ]^ot the least. I’m a philosopher, I flatter my- 
self, and a fatalist, and all that sort of thing, and 
then you know the old rhyme : 

“ ‘ So long as she’s content, 

So long I'll prove true, 

And then if slie changes, 

Wliy, so can I, too.’ ” 

“ I wish she heard you ! ” 

‘‘ She might ! I would say it all the same ! ” 

You would be a discarded suitor in five minutes, 
then ! The girl is proud as Lucifer.” 

Mr. St. Leon made a slight grimace. 

“ Don’t I know that ! But, then, to counterbalance 
the fact, she really is very fond of yours trul3^” 

I know it,” Dr. Stuart quietly said ; ‘‘more’s the 
pity ! ” 

Mr. St. Leon looked at him in calm inquiry. 

“ My good friend, when I resign Edith, am I to 
resign her to the future lord of Torwood Towers ? ” 

“ If you mean me by that title, no.” 

“ Oh,” said his companion, ligliting another of the 
execrable cigars, “ you seem to take such an interest 
in the matter, I did not know whether 3^ou were not 
getting into the same lamentable state of mind 
with Mr. Torwood. Wise men have turned fools 
before to-day,” 

Dr. Stuart laughed. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. l6l 

“ There is a commandment which says ‘ Thou shalt 
not covet thy neighbor’s goods,’ and I always keep 
the commandments. Besides, it strikes me I should 
like a handsome wife. I think I’ll marry Florence.” 

“ She would not have you ! ” 

“ No ? Not even with fifty thousand dollars and 
Tor wood Towers thrown in ? ” 

“ The bribe is heavy — but no — you will never 
marry Florence!” 

Unhappy wretch that 1 am 1 I had been flatter- 
ing myself that lovely face would comfort me three 
hundred and sixty-five times a year across the break- 
fast table, and here are all my high hopes dashed to 
the earth at one fell blow. Is it that I’m not good- 
looking enough ? ” 

That for one thing, and besides ” 

“ Besides what ? ” 

“ I thought Lucy, the fair, the gentle, the sweet, 
was to be the happy one.” 

“ Yery true — I forgot Lucy! How would you 
like her yourself ? ” 

I never had much, fancy for cream candy ; it 
doesn’t agree with me ; but that’s no reason why it 
should disagree with others.” 

Quite right ! And Lucy is very pretty — next to 
Florence, the best looking of the lot.” 

“ What a lucky fellow you are, Stuart, to come in 
for all that tin, and a pretty wife besides. That 
mother of yours is a clever woman.” 

Sly St. Leon ! Looking under his eyelashes, he 
saw the doctor wince, and enjoyed it amazingly. 

“ There’s another ! What superb fish they are ! 
Shall we go ? It is dodging on for five o’clock.” 

II 


i 62 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


‘‘ With all my heart ! Are we to walk ? ” 

‘‘ No, my drag is over at the hotel : it will take us 
in half an hour.” 

The two sauntered back. St. Leon changed his 
dress, took his place in the drag, and was soon flying 
over the ground at a 2.40 rate, that speedily brought 
them to their destination. 

As they sprang from the light wagon the eyes of 
both caught sight of a Avhite muslin skirt glancing 
in and out among the trees near at hand. Dr. Stuart 
looked at his companion with one of his queer 
smiles. 

The woman in White,” he said, “and not Wilkie 
Collins’ heroine either. It is something new for 
Miss Florence to take a constitutional before dinner, 
exercise not being much in her line. I wonder 
if she saw us. Oh, here she comes ; go and pay 
your respects, while I convey the trout to Miss 
Lucy.” 

Fair as a poet’s vision, in translucent white, with 
pale blue ribbons floating about her, flowers in her 
shining hair, and a blue and gold book of poems in 
her hand, Florence came out from the trees, and Mr. 
St. Leon, nothing loth, Avent up and joined her. Dr. 
Stuart gave one backward glance, and sauntered on 
to the draAving-room, that doubtful smile of his 
bright on his face. In the hall he met Edith coming 
doAvn stairs. 

“ Mr. St. Leon is in the grounds,” he said ; “ I think 
he is Avaiting for you.” 

She boAved low and sAvept past him in silence. He 
glanced after the tall, straight, stately figure, smil- 
ing still. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 1 63 

“Dr. Johnson liked a good hater/’ he thought; 
“ what a pity he did not know you ! ” 

Edith went down the piazza stairs, and out into 
the grounds. Two figures stood under a spreading 
chestnut, one in floating white, the other, St. Leon, 
she knew ; but what could St. Leon have to say so 
very earnestly to Florence. Neither saw or heard 
her, as she stepped lightly over the yielding sward, 
and was it fancy or did she really see him hand her 
something like a letter. In another instant she was 
near enough to catch his last words. 

“If you wear it at dinner I shall take it for a 
token of assent, and ” 

He stopped short, for Florence had sprung away 
with a suppressed startled cry, her whole face turn- 
ing scarlet. Edith was besides him, looking at them 
both out of her powerful gray eyes. Anything 
more guilty than Florence looked could hardly exist ; 
but Mr. St. Leon, whom an earthquake could not 
ruffle, turned to greet her with constitutional cool- 
ness. 

“ Are you shod with the slippers of silence, made- 
moiselle? You have startled this nervous young- 
lady half out of her wits.” 

Edith laughed good naturedly — no shadow of sus- 
picion in her mind. 

“ Don’t blush so furiously, my pretty sister ; it is 
not high treason to be caught talking to Giaccomo. 
Come down with us to the shore for a walk.” 

She would have passed her arm girl-fashion round 
her Avaist, but Florence, her face still burning, her 
eyes averted, shrank away. One hand Avas hidden 
in the fold of her dress, and that something Avhite 


164 the sisters op torwood. 

Edith had seen St. Leon give her was tightly crushed 
therein. 

“What ^’<9 the matter Avith you?” Edith cried 
wonderingly ; “ won’t you come ? ” 

“ h[o,” said Florence, turning away, “ I want to go 

to the house. I don’t care for walking, I ” 

She did not finish the sentence but Avalked away, 
and Edith looked after her in the last degree aston- 
ished. St. Leon broke into a low laugh* 

“ Well,” said Edith, turning to him, “and what 
does it all mean ? ” 

“ That your sister is a goose, my dear. I Avas pay- 
ing her compliments, as in duty bound, when you 
came up and caught us, and behold the result ; I 
thought young ladies trained in fashionable board- 
ing-schools understood these things better !” 

“ For shame, sir ! Florence is a child, and you 
deterAm to have your ears boxed. Come for a Avalk 
before dinner.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


165 


CHAPTEE XIY. 

WHAT THE MOON SAW. 

They went down to the shore, and walked slowly 
up and down the sands, while Florence, up in her 
room, was reading a letter. The letter began 
‘‘ Angel of my dreams,” and there was a ring in- 
closed, and as she read she covered her hot face 
with both hands, and laid it down on the table. It 
was the dinner bell that aroused her at last, and she 
went down, in a violent tremor still. All were as- 
sembled but Madge, and that young person flashed 
in, breezy and breathless as usual, just as they were 
taking their seats. Miss Madge was in a high state 
of excitement, and broke out in shrill tones at once : 

Only guess who I met just now, Lucy, as I was 
coming from Torwoodtown.” 

“ My dear Madge, don’t talk so loudly. How can 
I guess ; you met a good many people, no doubt.” 

Pshaw ! You might try. I met old Iluldah, 
the fortune-teller.” 

‘‘ What ! ” said Lucy, looking interested, ‘‘ not 
Huldah that used to live in the cedar woods.” 

‘‘ That’s her ! ” said Madge, who was no way par- 
ticular about her grammar. She was strutting 
along, as if she had a pair of seven-league boots on, 
and invited me to stop and have my fortune told.” 


i66 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD„ 


“ And did you ? ” asked Dr. Stuart. 

“ Catch me ! I told her I was in a hurry for my 
dinner, being sure of a blowing up if I were late, 
and invited her to call up here some evening, and 
predict for us all in a lot. You see. Dr. Stuart, I’m 
worried to know which of us you are going to 
marry, and — Edith, what’s the matter ? ” 

She might well ask. Edith had turned white, 
even to her lips. 

“Nothing,” she answered, seeing them all stare, 
“ I do not feel quite well, but it is nothing. A glass 
of water please.” 

“ 1 thought Huldah had left here long ago,” said 
Lucy, filling Edith’s glass. “ My dear Edith, you 
look dreadfully pale ; we will get Dr. Stuart to pre- 
scribe for you.” 

“ Oh, she’s come back again,” cut fn Madge, be- 
fore the doctor could speak. “Won’t it be jolly, 
though, if she takes me at my word, and comes up 
here to tell fortunes ! ” 

“ Who is this Huldah ? ” asked St. Leon. “ I hope 
she may come — I want to get my fortune told of 
all things.” 

“ A poor half-witted mulatto,” replied Lucy. “ A 
slave once, but free now, who goes wandering over 
the country, and when here lives in a wretched hut 
in the cedar woods, and supports herself by telling 
fortunes. Edith, do you feel better ? You eat noth- 
ing.” 

“I am much better, thank you.” 

Madame Torwood was just opening her lips to ut- 
ter a tirade against fortune-telling when there was 
another shrill cry from Madge : 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 167 

“ Oh, Florence ! what a nice ring ! Where did it 
come from ? I never saw you wear it before.” 

Poor Florence ! It never would have done for 
her to be placed in a criminal dock — her face would 
have borne grievous witness against her. Once 
again it was hanging out the red ensign of guilt. 
Dr. Stuart looked amused, Lucy and Edith half 
smiled at her embarrassment, and Mr. St. Leon 
leaned forward to look. It was a beautiful ring, 
cluster diamonds richly set, and blazed with rainbow 
fire on the plump, pretty hand. 

“Yery nice, indeed,” was his criticism. “Is it 
your engagement ring. Miss Florence ? ” 

“ As if she would tell you,” said Madge. “ Flor- 
ence, I wish you would give me a few lessons in 
blushing ! You’re complete mistress of the art.” 

This remark did not at all tend to disminish the 
scarlet tide ebbing and flowing in the young lady’s 
face, and her confusion grew so painful that Lucy, 
ever good-natured, came to the rescue. 

“ Is Mr. Torwood coming over this evening, Mr. 
St. Leon ? ” she asked. 

“Can’t say. Mr. Torwood does not honor me 
with his confidence.” 

“ Of course he will,” said Madge ; “ he couldn’t 
stay away if he tried, and he doesn’t try, for here 
he is now, just in time to be late.” 

But Mr. Torwood had dined, and had merely come 
to spend, the evening. A very pleasant evening it 
was with music and cards, and conversation and 
chess, and the midnight moon was high in the sky 
when the two young men from Torwoodtown rode 
leisurely over the hill-side to their hotel. 


i68 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


Florence, pleading a headache, had gone up-stairs 
some twx> hours previously, but when Edith entered 
her room she found it deserted. Lucy crossing the 
hall, lamp in hand, explained : 

Florence is going to stay in her own room to- 
night. She told me to say her head ached so she 
could not sleep, and knew she would keep you from 
sleeping also. Good-night ! ” 

“ Good-night ! ” Edith said ; but instead of retir- 
ing, she went to Florence’s door and rapped. Flor- 
ence opened it, still in her dinner dress, her cheeks 
yet hot, her eyes still humid. She shrank away, as 
she had done in the grounds, at sight of Edith. 

‘‘ Don’t ask me to stay with you to-night,” she 
said, hastily ; “I always want to be alone when my 
head aches.” 

‘‘ Poor child,” Edith said, tenderly, “ you are in a 
high fever. Can I do anything for you ? ” 

“Nothing; Luc}^ did all she could. I will be 
better to-morrow.” 

“ Don’t sit up then ; good-night.” 

She turned away, and heard Florence close and 
lock her door. She did not go to sleep though ; the 
moon, looking in through the curtains, saw what 
she was doing ; but the moon, though a female, can 
keep secrets, and no one was likely to be the wiser. 

What a solemn midnight moon ! It shone on 
Giaccomo St. Leon sleeping the sleep of the just, 
his head on his arm, his handsome face smiling in 
his dreams ; it shone on Lucy and Madge slumber- 
ing side by side, in the peaceful repose of youth and 
health ; it shone on Dr. Stuart, on the shadowy 
piazza, watching a dark figure prowling about the 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 169 

grounds, a figure not seen for the first time ; it 
shone on Edith walking up and down her room 
meditatively ; and it shone on Florence, “ innocent 
as a child,” sitting reading and re-reading the letter 
beginning “ Angel of my dreams.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


170 


CHAPTEK XY. 

RESPECTFULLY DECLINED. 

It was a miserable morning in Torwoodtown. It 
had rained all night ; it was raining still , a miserable, 
sulky drizzle-drizzle, that penetrated through every- 
thing, and was as much worse than an honest, hearty 
downpour, as moping and silence is worse than a 
hot and hearty outburst of temper. The sky was 
of lead, without one bright break in its uniform dul- 
ness to give promise of fairer weather. The sea 
was of leaden gray, too, and boomed on the shore 
in long, hoarse roars. The trees Avere dripping and 
sodden ; pools of water filled the straggling street ; 
the houses had that black, and dismal, and comfort- 
less appearance houses always Avear on rainy days ; 
the sea wind Avas chill and raw, and the feAV pedes- 
trians hurrying under limp umbrellas, to and fro, 
looked blue and cross, and miserable. A Avretched 
morning, that made you yawn drearily, and gaA^e 
you the blues in the dismallest Avay — a morning on 
which you felt damp and shivery, and everything 
you touched seemed clammy and broken out into a 
sticky perspiration — a morning trying to the tem- 
per — on Avhich, if you Avere the least inclined to be 
crabbed and cross — it Avas sure to come out, and 
you made yourself and everybody around you ex- 
quisitely unhappy. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. Ijl 

There could have been nothing crabbed or cross 
in the angelic temperament of Mr. Giaccomo St. 
Leon, for on this dreary and dismal morning he sat 
in the smoking-room of the Torwoodtown Hotel, 
his boots elevated on the window-sill, his chair 
tipped back, putting the apartment to its legitimate 
use, and smoking one after another of the execrable 
cigars, until he was quite lost to view in clouds of 
blue smoke. He had asked for something to read, 
but the library of the establishment boasted of but 
four volumes — a Bible of tr3dngly small type, 
“Bobinson Crusoe,” with the beginning and end 
torn out, an old English grammar, and a dictionary. 
Hone of these works proving of very exciting in- 
terest, Mr. St. Leon had no resource but smoking 
and thinking, and he had been doing the former for 
the last hour with an energy worthy of a better 
cause. As he was lighting his ninth cigar the 
door opened, and the landlord, looking like an over- 
grown leach in a long shiney mackintosh and 
glazed cap, stuck his head through the aperture. 

I’m going to the postoffice, sir ; shall I ask for 
you ? ” 

‘‘ I don’t expect anything,” said Mr. St. Leon ; “ but 
you may ask all the same. Where’s Mr. Torwood ? ” 

‘‘ Writing in his own room. He gave me this big 
letter to post.” 

Mr. St. Leon glanced at the letter — a most offi- 
cial-looking document, with an immense seal. He 
stared as he read the address. 

“ To the Honorable ,” he checked himself sud- 

denly. “How, what the deuce has Torwood to do 
with the War Department at Washington ?” 


172 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

The landlord went off, and the young gentleman 
sat smoking and staring at the steamed and blurred 
window, and revolving the last question over in his 
mind. Before he could obtain any satisfactory an- 
swer to it, mine host was back with two letters, one 
bearing a foreign postmark, bordered and sealed 
with black ; the other a tiny affair, superscribed in 
a dainty schoolgirl hand. 

“ Blessed are they who shall expect nothing, for 
they shall not be disappointed,” said St. Leon ; “ are 
either of these for me ? ” 

“ This little one is — a love-letter, I expect, by the 
look of it,” said Boniface, handing it over ; “ this 
’ere other one is for Mr. Torwood, and comes from 
foreign parts. Some of his folks, I expect, is dead.” 

“ Postmarked Cuba,” said St. Leon, looking at it. 

“ I wonder But it’s no affair of mine. Who 

is this small epistle from, I should like to know ? ” 

“ It doesn’t come as far as Mr. Torwood’s,” said 
the landlord, knowingly ; “ it’s postmarked in the 
town.” 

“You had better send Mr. Torwood his letter, 
my friend,” remarked Mr. St. Leon quietly, and as 
the man went off he looked at the delicate writing 
again. “ ‘ Giaccomo St. Leon, Esquire, Torwood- 
town Hotel,’ — that’s all right ; but who is the writer ? 
Hot Edith; her fine, decided chirography is noth- 
ing like this fairy-like tracery. Can it be — by 
Jove ! I’ve hit it ! ” 

It was a very uncommon sight to behold the usu- 
ally phlegmatic Giaccomo St. Leon excited, but for 
once in his life he came very near it now. His 
handsome face flushed, and he tore off the envelope. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 1 73 

and devoured the contents in two seconds. It was 
brief, only two little pages, but he read and re-read 
these at least a dozen times, his face fairly radiant 
with delight. As he was going through it for the 
thirteenth time, the door abruptly opened, and 
Angus Tor wood stood before him, his dark face a 
shade paler and graver than usual. His keen eye 
fell on the rose colored billet, and on the ecstatic 
face of the reader, with a glance that seemed to 
pierce his thoughts. St. Leon hastily crumpled it 
in his hand, and, his customary coolness came back. 

“ No bad news, I trust, Mr. Torwood ? Old Hurst 
brought you a letter in mourning.” 

“ Bad enough,” said Mr. Torwood, with cold ab- 
ruptness ; ‘‘ Madame Rosiere is dead.” 

St. Leon rose hastily, with a face full of concern. 

“ Madame Rosiere, Edith’s aunt, dead ! Is it pos- 
sible ? When did she die ? ” 

“ Three weeks ago, of yellow fever. Hurst — I 
say, Hurst — where are you ? ” 

“ Here, sir,” said Mr. Hurst, making his appear- 
ance. 

“ Have my horse saddled and brought round at 
once.” 

Mr. Hurst hurried off to obe}^, and St. Leon rose 
to leave the room. 

‘‘ Are you for the Towers ? ” he asked. 

‘‘ I am.” 

‘‘ Be good enough to tell Edith — to tell her that 
I will be over in the course of the day. I am very 
sorry to hear of Madame Rosiere’s death.” 

Mr. Torwood made no reply — he cared very little 
for talking to his cousin’s betrothed at any time, 


174 the sisters of torwood. 

and on this particular morning he was unusually 
silent and stern. Hurst made his appearance with 
the horse, and he was leaving the room when his 
eye fell on something St. Leon had dropped. He 
picked it up, a look of tierce joy flashed over his 
swarth face, and thrusting it in his pocket, he strode 
out, mounted, and dashed through the town at a 
furious rate. Mr. Hurst, with his hands deep in 
his trousers pockets, looked after him with an ad- 
miring eye. 

“ What a cove that is on horseback ! He’ll be at 
the Towers in fifteen minutes if he keeps that ’ere 
up.” 

Mr. Torwood did keep it up, and reached the old 
house in a very short time. Going up-stairs he 
found Edith in the hall, looking out of the oriel 
window at the drear July day, with something of 
its gloom in her face. She had been alone and 
lonely all day. Florence seemed to avoid her per- 
versely ever since that evening in the shrubbery, 
two days ago now ; she had visibly shrank from her, 
and Edith was far too proud to force herself on any 
one. For the society of Lucy or Madge she did not 
care, and she avoided the drawing-room steadfastly, 
for either Madame Torwood or her son were con- 
stantly there. Both were there now, and Lucy was 
at the piano, touching the keys so softly that the 
murmur of the surf could distinctly be heard above 
the low tones in which she was singing What are 
the Wild Waves Saying?” Edith was listening to 
the sweet low voice, and watching the drizzling rain 
blistering the windows ; but she turned from both 
with a look of intense relief at the well-known 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 1 75 

step, and held out her hand to her cousin, with a 
breath of relief. 

“Oh, Angus ! how glad I am to see you ! I am 
half dead of loneliness this dismal day ! ” 

He just touched the frankly extended hand, and 
stood beside her in dark silence, looking out at the 
sodden grass and trees and gloomy sky, and seeing 
neither. 

She looked at him with wistful eyes. “ What is 
it, Angus ? Has anything gone wrong ? ” 

“Yes.” 

Still that wistful gaze ; but still looking at the 
pale blank of wet and mist, he seemed no way in- 
clined to speak, and she would not ask further. She 
turned her eyes from his darkly gloomy face to the 
window with a low sigh. 

“ How dreary it all is here. Oh, my beautiful 
Cuba ! that any one should leave you for this cold, 
bleak land ? ” 

She drew a scarlet shawl she wore closer around 
her with a shiver. Lucy’s song died out like a sigh, 
and Angus Tor wood looked at his companion for 
the first time. 

“ You would like to go back to Cuba, then ? ” 

“ Like it ! ” she repeated. “ Oh ! ” and there 

she stopped, but her face finished the sentence. 

“ Are you not happy ? ” 

“ How can I be — in the same house with that 
woman and her son ? ” 

“But your sisters,” with a grim smile; “you 
should be happy with them.” 

She shrugged her shoulders in her foreign ways 
“ Pah ! we are strangers to each other^ and must 


^176 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

always be so. Even Florence, whom I could love — 
but never mind. Oh, for my Cuban home, where I 
was always loved and happy ! ” 

“ When did you hear from Cuba ? ” 

“ Not yet ; I expect a letter every day.” 

‘‘ From your aunt ? ” 

“Yes; dear, dear aunt! I wonder if she misses 
me much ? ” 

“No, Edith.” 

He spoke so solemnly that she looked up in sur- 
prise. 

“ What did you say, Angus ? ” 

“Your aunt does not miss you — she never will 
miss any one again in this Avorld ! ” 

She grew white, and looked at him with startled 
eyes, but still she did not comprehend. 

“ Angus, what are you saying? What do you 
mean ? ” 

He drew a letter from his pocket, edged and 
sealed with black. 

“ The letter you expected has come, Edith ! Here 
it is ! ” 

She looked at it fearfully, but made no effort to 
take it. Her startled eyes were still fixed on his 
ominous face, her own turning whiter and whiter 
still. 

“ Angus, I don’t understand. I am afraid to un 
derstand 1 Tell me that all are well at Eden Lawn.” 

“ I cannot. Take your letter.” 

“ Angus ! ” 

He laid the letter on the window-sill, folded his 
arms, and stood moodily silent looking out. The 
whole truth came to her at once like a flash. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 1 77 

“ Angus ! ” she cried out, ‘‘ some one is dead ! ” 

U Yes ! ” 

She snatched up the letter ; there was no more 
hesitation now, and the next moment she knew what 
she had lost. Knowing how she had loved her dear 
aunt. Angus Tor wood stood bracing himself for a 
scene. He might have known his cousin Edith, 
better. Neither word, nor pry, nor tear followed — 
she stood as if turned to stone. White as a spirit, 
she leaned against the window, with a look in her 
eyes that frightened him. 

“I should have prepared you for this,” he ex- 
claimed ; ‘‘ the shock has been too much for you ! 
Edith, you are going to faint.” 

He really thought she was, she had become so 
deadly pale, but she answered quietly : 

‘‘No.” 

“You see you have no home in Cuba now.” 

“ I understand.” 

He looked at her. Something had gone out of her 
face, not color, for she was always pale, but all its 
brightness had faded, and a sort of gray shadow had 
fallen in its place. There were no tears in the large 
dark eyes, but something far sadder than Siny reliev- 
ing tears could have been. Edith Torwood was one 
of those unfortunate women who cannot weep, who 
sit like a stone until the pain at their heart wears 
itself out. 

“ Edith,” he said, “ you will die here ! Come with 
me, and let me make you a home where you will be 
happy ! ” 

She looked at him, not understanding. 

“ You, Angus ! ” 

12 


178 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

‘‘ As iny wife, Edith ! ” 

It was out then ! Had a bullet struck her, she 
could not have started more violently, or sprang 
away more quickly. One glance at his face and she 
read Avhat had been plain to others so long. 

“ Oh, Angus ! ” she cried, in a voice full of re- 
proach. 

“Well,” he said, bitterly, “is it a crime? Am I 
to consider that look of horror as my dismissal ? ” 

“ Angus, I did not expect this from 3^011— you 
whom I have loved as a brother ! ” 

“ You are very kind ! But I want no brotherly 
love ! Out with the answer — ^^es or no ? ” 

“ Ah, then ! ” she said, coldly, turning away. 

His face turned dark red, and then nearly livid. 

“ And is it for that little popinjay — that perfumed 
dandy,” he said, setting his teeth hard, “ that I am 
refused ! For that miserable, brainless fop, whom 
I could lay low in the kennel any day if I pleased ! ” 
“ Angus,” she said, facing him, with the look of a 
tigress in her eyes, “ are you going mad ? ” 

“ For that false and cowardly villain,” he went 
on, not heeding her, “ who cares so little for her that 
he leaves her for the pink and white face of that 
fat simpleton in there, she refuses me.” 

“Angus Torwood, what are you daring to say?” 
“ The truth, my fair cousin ! ” he answered, with 
bitter scorn. “ I have the pleasure of announcing 
that this pretty little Apollo of j^ours has cast you 
off, jilted you — how do you like the word ? — for that 
great inanity in white muslin and ^^ellow curls ! ” 
She looked at him in silence, growing terribly 
white, and the tigerish look still glaring in her 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 1 79 

eyes. But her voice when she spoke was steady 
and calm. 

“ It is false ! ” she said, still watching him. “ I 
did not think a Torwood could stoop to lie ! ” 

“Were you a man you never would repeat that 
word ; as it is — ” He drew out a crumpled pink 
note from his pocket, and spreading it out, pointed 
to the last page. “ Bead that ! ” 

She looked. “My own dear Florence,” were the 
words she saw, and then her eyes were once again 
riveted to his face. 

“ Well ? ” was all she said. 

“I bring my proofs, you see. Miss Torwood. 
Mr. St. Leon dropped this prett}^ little missive, end- 
ing, ‘ Wholly thine, Florence,’ this morning, and I 
brought it here to convince you of his perfidy and 
the treachery of the sister you love. Take it and 
read it to the end, and see if any doubt remains.” 

“ Ho,” she said, drawing back with cold contempt, 
more galling by far than anything else could have 
been ; “ I leave acts like that for Angus Torwood. 
I am not in the habit of purloining other people’s 
letters and reading them by stealth.” 

His swarth face was white as death, his eyes burn- 
ing like black flame. 

“And this is all you have to say?” he asked, 
hoarsely. 

“All! Except that of all creatures on Grod’s 
earth I despise Angus Torwood most.” 

She swept past him, gathering up her flowing 
skirts, as if to touch him were contamination, and 
passed into the drawing-room. With a terrible 
oath, only half suppressed, he strode down-stairs, 


l8o THE SISTERS OE TORWOOD. 

and live minutes afterward was dashing back to Tor- 
woodtown, as if he and his horse had both gone mad. 

Edith, entering the drawing-room, looked for 
Florence ; but Florence was not there. Lucy turned 
her face from the piano in surprise. 

“ Has Mr. Torwood really gone, Edith ? What 
makes you look so pale ? ” 

“ Mr. Torwood has gone,” was the quiet answer. 
“ Where is Florence ? ” 

‘‘ I don’t know ; down-stairs somewhere, I think.” 

Edith turned and went down-stairs, and in the 
glance Dr. Stuart cast after her there was half 
amusement, half pity. On her way she met Madge. 

“ Have you see Florence ? ” she asked. 

“ Yes. La ! how pale you are ! ” 

“ Where is she ? ” 

“ Hot three miles from the pantry. What ails 
you ? You look like a ghost ! ” 

But Edith was gone, making straight for the 
house-keeper’s room, or what had been the house- 
keeper’s room, when such a lady had been employed 
at Torwood Towers. The pantry door stood half 
open, and there sat Miss Florence before a little 
table, with a row of little plates before her, filled 
with pink slices of ham, morsels of cold chicken, 
delicate cuts of cake, and wedges of pies, so ab- 
sorbed in gormandizing that she neither heard nor 
saw her watching sister. Anything less romantic 
could not have been imagined, and, in spite of 
everything that had passed that morning, some- 
thing like a smile dawned on Edith’s grave face. It 
was gone in a moment, and so was she, shut up in 
her own room with her own dreary thoughts. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. l8l 

It was a miserable day. The storm of wind and 
rain increased every hour, and lashed the Avindows 
ceaselessly. The dull moan of the sea was not 
more dismal than Edith’s m usings sitting at her 
storm-beaten window. She did not descend to din- 
ner, and Lucy, ever thoughtful and anxious for others, 
brought up something on a tray ; but Edith Avould 
not eat. She Avas Avaiting for St. Leon — she felt 
she could not rest again until she had told him all 
and heard his explanation. But the long day passed, 
and Mr. St. Leon did not come ; evening, gray and 
eerie, fell, and still he was absent; night, black, 
wet, and Avild, folloAved, and yet St. Leon was far 
aAvay. 

Kneeling down by her bedside that night to pray, 
Edith laid her sorroAvful face on her pilloAV, and 
felt it groAv Avet Avith her tears. So long she knelt, 
that the daAvn, lifting a leaden eye over the stormy 
sea, next morning, found her kneeling there still. 
As on the night of her arrival, Edith TorAVOod had 
cried herself to sleep like a child. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


182 


CHAPTEK XYI. 

THE SHADOW OF WHAT WAS TO COME. 

' Who can account for presentiments — those strange 
foreshadowings of the future — those mysterious 
liftings for a second of the vail of futurity, that 
come sometimes to every human soul. Like comets, 
they come and go, and who can account for them. 
Truly, there are more things in heaven n.nd earth 
than are dreamed of in our philosophy. 

Cold and cramped and unrefreshed, Edith Tor- 
wood arose from her comfortless resting-place, in 
the gray and dismal dawn of the next day. Be- 
wildered at first at the strange position in which 
she found herself, she looked round the familiar 
room, only conscious of a dreary weight at her 
heart. It all came back to her in a moment — the 
miserable yesterday — and with a long, shivering 
sigh she arose and went to the window. Her sen- 
sitive, nervous temperament made her so acutely 
sensible to the weather’s changes, that to her sun- 
shine was a matter almost of life and death. Ho 
sunshine to-day, however. Yesterday's rain had 
ended, but left behind a leaden and lowering sky, a 
steaming and soaking earth, a gray and gloomy 
sea. Spiritlessly she turned from the dull prospect, 
and mechanically went through the business of her 
toilet and morning prayers, and then, sitting down 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 1 83 

by the window, Avatched the dark and moaning sea, 
her thoughts far away. 

The house Avas yqyj still, but as her Avatch pointed 
to the hour of seA^en there was a tap at her door, 
and Lucy’s quiet face looked in. 

Edith turned her dark grave gaze from the win- 
doAV to the door, with no smile of greeting ; gentle 
Lucy Avas no favorite of hers. 

“ May I come in ? ” the elder sister hesitatingly 
inquired. 

“ Certainly, Miss TorAVOod.” 

Oh, Edith ! not that,” Lucy cried ; “not Miss 
Torwood. Are Ave not sisters ? ” 

“ Will you be seated? ” Avas Edith’s cold ansAver, 
pointing to a chair. 

“ No, thank you. I scarcely have time. I only 
ran in going past to see if your headache Avas 
better.” 

Edith had forgotten the headache she had pleaded 
last evening — heartache Avould have been nearer 
the mark, and the pain was there still. She turned 
her dark face once more the sea to shut out the 
anxious look in Lucy’s blue eyes. 

“ My headache is quite well.” 

“ You do not look well, then. I am afraid you 
are homesick — pining for Cuba.” 

Oh, that word ! It so vividly brought back all 
she had lost, that the pain at her heart nearly drove 
her wild. But in the averted face Lucy saAV noth- 
ing. She stood looking at her Avith the air of one 
Avishing to say something, and hesitating for fear of 
giving olfense ; and Edith noticing her silence, at 
length turned round, and read the look aright. 


184 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

“You have something to say tome,’’ she abruptly 
exclaimed ; “ What is it ? ” 

“ You will not be offended ? ” 

“ What is it ? ” 

“ Why did you not tell us yesterday your cousin, 
Angus was going away ? ” 

“ Going away ! ” Edith echoed ; “ has he ” 

gone she was going to say, but she checked herself 
in time. 

“ He went at noon yesterday in the steamer for 
Baltimore ; I heard Doctor Stuart and Mr. St. Leon 
talking about it last night.” 

“ Last night ! ” cried Edith facing round with sud- 
den energy ; “ was Mr. St. Leon here last night ? ” 

“Yes,” said Lucy, quietly; he spent the evening 
here. I wished to let you know ; but as you had a 
headache, he said he would not have you disturbed, 
and would call over early this morning again.” 

The powerful eyes of Edith were fixed with strange 
intensity on her sister’s face, and her face looked as 
if it were petrified in its severity, but she said noth- 
ing when Lucy ceased — only turned to the window 
again ; and still Lucy lingered, with that look of 
something to say still. 

“ My dear,” she began, with a face of absolute 
distress is her uncertainty, “ I have something else 

to tell you, but ; ” a pause, and Edith slowly 

turned her rigid face round to listen. 

“ What is it ? ” 

“ I am not sure that, I should tell you, and yet I 
think you ought to hear.” 

“ Will you speak ? ” Edith cried, her voice so 
sharp and harsh with that inward pain that Lucjr 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 185 

scarcely knew it ; or are you tormenting me on pur- 
pose ? Speak out, I tell you ; I am no child.” 

“ It is this, then,” said Lucy, her sweet tones in 
vivid contrast to the excited one of the other ; “ Mr. 
St. Leon and Mr. Tor wood met before he went away, 
and quarreled, and ” 

“ Fought !” cried Edith, springing with a rebound 

to her feet ; fought and ” Her whitening lips 

would not finish the sentence. 

“ And neither is hurt, at least, badly. Edith ! oh, 
Edith ! sit down, you will faint.” 

‘‘ Speak ! speak ! speak ! ” Edith shrilly cried ; 
“ speak, I tell you, or I shall die ! ” 

“ I will speak ! I will tell you all — everything ! 
only sit down.” 

She did sit down, but her wild, startled eyes never 
left Lucy’s face. Long after, in the dark days 
to come, Lucy remembered that look — the wild, 
frightened look of a deer with the knife at its 
throat. 

“ This was the way of it,” Lucy said, averting her 
own eyes from that burning intense stare. “ I mean 
the way I heard it. Yesterday after Joe Jinks, who 
is hostler over at Torwoodtown Hotel, came here 
Avith oysters. I wanted to speak with him about 
something or other before he left, and Avent after him 
to the kitchen. He and our coachman, Peters, Avere 
alone there talking very earnestly, and from the first 
I became so interested that I involuntarily stopped 
to listen. Joe Avms speaking of Angus and Mr. St. 
Leon. I knoAV he meant them, though he desig- 
nated them as the ‘ black chap and t’other gent.’ ” 

At any other time Edith Avould have smiled at 


i86 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOb. 


the gravely simple way Lucy repeated Mr. Jinks’ 
epithets, but she was in anything but a smiling 
humor now, and held her breath in her earnestness, 
and Lucy went on : 

“ The black chap, he said, came riding home as if 
there were imps after him, some time in the morning, 
and immediately sought out Mr. St Leon, who Avas 
reading in the smoking-room. He, Joe, who chanced 
to be near the window, saw him throw a crumpled 
piece of pink paper at the other’s feet, and begin 
using very abusive and violent language. Joe’s de- 
scription of his appearance to^ Pete Avas that he 
‘ looked like Old Hick in a gale of wind,’ but the 
other gent took it uncommonly easy, until the black 
chap, proA^oked at his calmness struck him across 
the face with his riding-whip.” 

There Avas a suppressed exclamation from Edith. 
Lucy Avaited for an instant and then Avent on : 

“ He got up, Joe said, at that, very pale, but quiet 
still, and said something to Mr. TorAvood. Joe had 
caught none of the conversation, violent as it had 
been, and the tAvo Avent up-stairs. Fifteen minutes 
after there Avas a report of tAvo pistol shots in Mr. 
St Leon’s room, and all rushed up in alarm to find 
out Avhat Avas the matter. The door Avas locked, and 
Avhile they were trying to burst it open, the key Avas 
turned, and Mr. St. Leon made his appearance, as 
self-possessed as ever, and requested him, Joe said, 
‘ not to make such a confounded row.’ Mr. Tor- 
wood was leaning against the opposite Avail, his right 
arm hanging poAverless by his side, but St. Leon was 
unhurt.” 

Still Edith did not speak — still that burning gaze 


The sisters of torwood. 187 

of inquiry was bent on Lucy, and Lucy composedly 
went on : 

‘‘Mr. Torwood’s arm was broken, and Joe said if 
he had been Mr. St. Leon’s brother he could not have 
been more anxious about him, but Angus woula 
neither look at nor speak to him. The arm was set 
and bound up, and then, in spite of all persuasions, 
he took passage on board the steamer, and is by this 
time no doubt in Baltimore.” 

Lucy stopped with the air of one who had finished 
her story, and Edith, with that altered voice, spoke 
at last : 

“ And Mr. St. Leon was here last night. Does he 
bear the mark of Angus Torwood’s blow ? ” 

“Yes,” said Lucy, coloring deeply, “there is a 
livid welt across his forehead. Madge asked him in 
her free way what he had been doing to himself, 
and he told her he had run his head against the tele- 
graph wires as he came along.” 

“ Who else in the house knows of this duel ? ” 

“ Dr. Stuart — no one else. I overheard,” said 
Lucy, who seemed to have a knack of overhearing, 
“ them talking about it as coolly as if it were the 
most matter of course occurrence in the world. ‘ I 
could have sent the bullet through his heart as easily 
as through his arm,’ Mr. St. Leon said ; ‘ but Tor- 
wood is too fine a fellow to kill, so I just winged 
him ! I had to do that in self-defense, or he would 
have shot me as dead as a herring.” 

“ Another question,” said Edith, keeping that in- 
tense gaze on Lucy’s face. “Does Dr. Stuart — do 
you — know the cause of all this ? 

Lucy hesitated, and colored again. 


l88 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

“ Yes, Edith — you are the cause.” 

Have you anything else to tell me ? ” 

“ hl’o thing more ! Have I done right in telling you 
this ? ” 

“ Quite right. I am much obliged to you. And 
now be good enough to leave me.” 

‘‘ Will you come down to breakfast, or shall I send 
it up ? ” 

“ Thank you ! I shall go down.” 

Lucy could linger no longer. She left the room, 
haunted by one dark figure, sitting with brooding 
eyes fixed steadily on the wide sea, and never seeing 
it. Lucy doubted much her coming down to break- 
fast, but come she did. It was a mere matter of 
form though ; she ate nothing, but was listening all 
the time to a question her heart Avas asking : “ Is 
there no one in all the world one can trust?” 
Angus, her brother Angus, unworthy ; Florence, the 
sister beloved so well, treacherous ; Giaccomo, bound 
to her by strongest vows and promises, false — all 
alike deceitful. 

She was just learning the lesson of life, you see, 
this haughty Edith, and found the alphabet, as we 
all find it, very bitter. 

She looked across the table at Florence. How 
pretty she was, with that skin like pink and white 
wax, those delicate features, that shower of spark- 
ling curls, those dark, soft eyes, like Auolet velvet, 
that little rosebud mouth, just showing the pearl 
Avhite teeth. She was a beauty born, an empress of 
hearts from her cradle, and Avhat Avere all Edith’s 
talents, and cleverness, and pride, compared Avith 
that pink and white face and those yellow curls. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. . 1 89 

There was a mirror over the mantel opposite — she 
looked at herself, and started to see a sunken-cheeked, 
hollow-eyed vision, plainer than plain Edith Tor- 
wood ever was before. One day of suffering could 
work greater change in one of the sensitive nervous 
temperament of Edith than weeks could do with the 
phlegmatic, sanguine Florence. 

1^0 one spoke of St. Leon, all were very silent, and 
Edith, fancied, with an intolerable sense of humilia- 
tion, that she read pity in every glance cast upon 
her. She would rather they had struck her, and 
she arose from the table in a horrible state of 
bitterness and resentment against them and all 
mankind. 

“ This day must end it,” she said through her 
closed teeth ; ‘‘ this day his own lips shall deny or 
confirm the charge. He cannot, he dare not lie to 
me! Let him take Florence if he wants her; I 
would tear my heart out sooner than marry him, 
with another preferred before me.” 

She went out on the piazza, feeling she could not 
stay in the same room with Florence. Some one 
followed her, and turning she saw Madge. 

“ Look here, Edith,” that young person began in 
her abrupt way, ‘‘ why didn’t you come down-stairs 
last night ? ” 

“Was I wanted ? ” Edith said, with cold scorn. 

“ Yes, you were,” said Madge, bluntly ; “ wanted 
very much. I have just one thing to say to yon. 
Miss Edith Tor wood, and you may get mad at it if 
you like, for some folks never have gumption enough 
to know their friends when they meet them. The 
thing’s this— you’re always wanted when that Mr, 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


190 

Jackeymo St. Leon is here — wanted particularly — 
mind that.” 

‘‘ With a shower of mysterious nods Madge 
darted away. Edith had scarcely heard her part- 
ing words; she was watching a horseman riding 
leisurely down the bridle path. A few minutes 
brought him to the court-yard, a few more to' the 
piazza where Edith still stood, and he was holding 
out his hand to her, and looking at the altered face. 

“ Well,” was his greeting, “ I should like to know 
what Miss Edith Tor wood has been about for the 
last day or two to change her to a living skeleton. 
They told me you had a headache — not that you 
were at death’s door.” 

The meeting was not very lover like, but their 
meetings never were that. Earnestly she looked 
up in his handsome face, so frank, so bright, so 
beautiful with man’s best beauty,” and “ Oh ! ” 
cried an inward voice she longed to believe, “ he is 
true; you have been frightening yourself in vaiij. 
All the world may be false, but Giaccomo is true ! ” 
How could she think at that moment of the dreary 
old adage, “ How fair an outside falsehood hath.” 

“Well, my dear, you do not speak, and you stare 
at me as if I were a live kangaroo. What may that 
solemn, searching look mean, pray ? ” 

“ I am looking at that bruise on your forehead ; 
how did you get it ? ” 

“ That, ” he said, lifting his straw hat cooly, and 
brushing back his luxuriant dark hair, “ that is noth- 
ing, only a scratch. ” 

“ It is something more, I think. Giaccomo, you 
have been quarreling. ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. IQI 

“ Have I ? Who told you that, mademoiselle ? ” 
A little bird, perhaps. Why did you fight with 
Angus Torwood ? ” 

“For a very good reason — because I could not 
help it. I don’t see how you found out anything 
about it ; but since you have, I suppose you know 
that beauty-spot is the mark of his horsewhip. ” 

“ I don’t know it,” said Edith, almost astonished, 
well as she was used to him, at the admirable cool- 
ness with which he spoke of it. ‘‘ What did you 
quarrel about % ” 

Mr. St. Leon leaned over the piazza rails to nod 
familiarly with Dr. Stuart passing below. 

“ About you, my dear. Torwood’s an odd sort of 
genius always, but I never took him to be quite 
cracked until yesterday. I say, Stuart, we will 
have to postpone our fishing excursion to-day, won’t 
we? Confound the weather. ” 

Dr. Stuart did not reply ; he only liHed his hat to 
Edith, and walked away. 

“ What did he do yesterday ? Attend to me if 
you please, Mr. St. Leon, and never mind Dr. Stuart.” 

“ Beg your pardon, Edith. He was here yester- 
day morning, was he not ? ” 

‘‘ Yes.” 

Well, his visit did not tend to sweeten his tem- 
per, however you all treated him here. He returned 
in a most ferocious mood, began calling me a select 
litany of hard names, accused me of falsehood and 
treachery and making love to your pretty sister, Flor- 
ence, and of perpetrating all sorts of horrors, in 
short; and finding he could not irritate me for I 
flatter myself I have too much sense to get up 


192 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


Steam to such a high pressure about anything in 
this hum-drum world, ended by giving me a blow 
with his whip. Of course, after that there was but 
one way of acting; we took it; fired across the 
table ; he got his arm shattered ; I escaped unhurt, 
and am here to tell the tale : and so, my dear — 
finis P 

All the time he was talking Edith was watching 
him. [N’o, there was no trace of guilt in that hand- 
some, careless face, in that composed voice, in that 
serene manner. Her heart smote her with re- 
morse for the injustice she had done him, and she 
held out her hand to him with a little penitent cry. 

“ Oh, Giaccomo ! how I have been wronging you, 
and how miserable I have been ! Can you ever for- 
give me ? ” 

“ For what, my dear ? ’’ 

“ I thought — they made me believe you — you — oh, 
I am ashamed to tell you ! — that you were false, 
that you cared for Florence, and not for me.” 

Pooh ! how could you be such a goose, Edith ! 
Florence, indeed ! It is some of Mr. Angus Torwood’s 
handiwork, I suppose.” 

“ Do you forgive me ? ” 

To be sure, and him too. He was jealous, poor 
fellow, and a jealous man is equal to anything. 
Florence is a very fine girl, an extensive armful of 

beauty, rather on the Dutch scale, perhaps, but ” 

a shrug and a slight lift of the eyebrows finished the 
sentence. “ Come into the drawing-room, and let 
us have some music. The Queen pf Sheba is not 
down-stairs yet, I hope ? ” 

“Who?’" 


THE SISTERS OP TORWOOD. 


193 

“Oh, Madame Torwood! that most awful of 
womankind ! Come, I am dying to hear ‘ La ci 
darem ! ’ ” 

Florence only was in the drawing-room and she 
turned crimson at their entrance. Edith pitied her. 
“ He is so handsome,’’ she thought, ‘^and Florence 
is only a child — I understand it all now.” Mr. St. 
Leon merely bowed to the younger sister, and stood 
devotedly at the piano while Edith played and sang 
as even Edith never played and sang before. It 
charmed Madame Torwood down from her room, it 
charmed Lucy from her housekeeping, Madge from 
her dogs and horse, and Dr. Stuart from his book 
aud morning constitutional. Once again Edith was 
happy ; but in Dr. Stuart’s blue eyes, genial and 
kindly, the look of pity was deeper than ever. 

Before noon the Aveather cleared, and the gentle- 
men discovered they could go on their fishing excur- 
sion after all — and went. Edith followed them to 
the piazza, the chill feeling of presentiment returning 
strangely again. 

“You will be back to-morrow?” she said, wist- 
fully holding out her hand. 

He lifted it to his lips. 

“ Could I stay away if I triea ? Adieu, and au 
revoir ! ” 

She stood on the piazza and watched them out of 
sight, then strolled into the grounds for a Avalk. 
Aimlessly she turned into the dark shrubbery, and 
as she neared its darkest and loneliest part, she heard 
voices among the trees. 

“To-morrow, then,” said a low voice she did not 
recognize. 

13 


194 'THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

“Yes, to-morrow; and, oh, dear me I I feel so 
nervous about it,” said a second voice, the voice of 
Florence. 

There was a rustling of bushes as she spoke, and 
out from among the trees Florence herself came, and 
stood face to face with Edith. There was nothing 
very startling, one would think, in such an encounter ; 
certainly she was not parting with Mr. St. Leon this 
time ; but if ever any one showed guilt in every feat- 
ure, that one was Florence. From scarlet she turned 
white, and then scarlet again, shrinking away in 
such visible affright that Edith looked at her in ut- 
most wonder. 

“ What is the matter with you ? ” she asked. 

“ You— you startled me so,” was the confused reply, 
and, without looking up, she turned and walked 
rapidly away. 

“ Who could her companion have been ? ” thought 
Edith. “ This is all rather mysterious. It certainly 
was not the voice of a man.” 

She parted the bushes and looked in, but no one 
was visible. The flutter of a black skirt on the 
distant beach caught her eye, but it was only Madge, 
singing one of her odd snatches of song : 

“ Bind the sea to slumber stilly, 

Bind its odor to the lily, 

Bind the aspen ne’er to quiver. 

Then bind love to last forever ! ” 

That cold, chilling presentiment once more ! What 
was there in Madge’s gay voice to awaken it ? 

“ Pshaw ! ” Edith said to herself, impatiently, 
“what a simpleton I am ! ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


195 


And so she wandered up and down for over an 
hour, trying to think she was happy and satisfied, 
and her mutinous heart giving her the lie all the 
time. What was Florence going to do to-morrow ? 
to whom had she been talking ? and why that guilty 
look ? Edith went back to the house without find- 
ing an answer to her own questions, and dressed for 
dinner. 

As she descended to the dining-room, Madge came 
behind her, singing again, this time the fag-end of 
an old French ballad : 

“ To-day forme, 

To-morrow for thee, 

But will that to-morrow ever be ! ” 

“ To-morrow ! to-morrow ! ” repeated Edith, men- 
tally ; why does that word haunt me so ? Who 
knows what to-morrow may bring forth? ” 

Who, indeed ? Well for her she did not know, as 
her appetite for dinner would have been as poor as 
at breakfast. It haunted her all the evening, haunt- 
ed her to her room, haunted her at her prayers, 
haunted her to her pillow. 

To-morrow ! to-morrow ! ” she kept inwardly 
reiterating, and with that momentous little word 
still in her heart and on her lips, Edith fell asleep. 


196 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


CHAPTEE XVII. 

WHAT CAME. 

In the staid and prim parlor of that staid and 
prim house adjoining that staid and prim building, 
the Presbyterian meeting-house, the Rev. Alexander 
McPherson sat at dinner. The reverend gentleman 
kept early hours, as you know, and though the hands 
of the town clock had not yet touched ten, Mr. Mc- 
Pherson’s appetite was six hours old, and in excel- 
lent order. He had just sat down, gone through a 
brief grace, spread his napkin, and was seizing vig- 
orously the carving-knife and fork, when an authori- 
tative knock sounded at the hall door. 

Mr. McPherson paused, with the carving knife 
brandished over the smoking joint, and presently 
the old housekeeper made her appearance ushering 
in a visitor. The minister, from the loudness of the 
knock, had been expecting Miss Madge Torwood ; 
but it was a gentleman this time, a tall, young, and 
gracious gentleman. 

“ Oh, it’s only you ! ” exclaimed the clergyman, 
looking relieved, and beginning to carve. “I ex- 
pected a lady. Find a chair, will you, and draw it 
over — my old lady will find another plate and knife 
and fork.” 

‘‘ Thank you,” said Dr. Stuart, who chanced to be 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 1 97 

the visitor, removing his gloves. “ So you have 
ladies to visit you, do you ? Young or old ? ” 

“ Both. Madge Torwood comes sometimes. 
What brings Dr. Stuart to town this morning ? ” 

“ You never would guess what ! I am trying my 
hand as an amateur detective, and am on the trail 
of two certain people. I missed what I came for, 
though.” 

“ What was that ? ” 

“ A wedding ! I’ll tell you all about it by and by. 
I am too hungry to talk at present. It’s luncheon 
hour over at the Towers, and ‘ my lady ’ and pretty 
Mistress Lucy, not to speak of the other angels,- re- 
siding there, will wonder what has become of me.” 

“ It won’t take away their appetite, I hope. Is it 
any harm to ask how you are progressing ? ” 

“ In what way ? ” 

‘‘ Have you proposed for any of the Misses Tor- 
wood yet ? ” 

‘‘ Hot yet. I am afraid I am bashful. Proposing 
is an awful piece of business to a timid fellow like 
myself.” 

The laughing face and roguish blue eyes confront- 
ing the divine certainly showed little evidence of 
bashfulness. Mr. McPherson grunted expressively : 

“ Time is on the wing, 3"oung man, and other 
suitors may not be so dilatory. There’s that St. 
Leon — he is going to carry off one ; here am I bent 
on carrjdng off another ; so only two will be left. 
You’ll put your foot in it, my young friend, if you 
are not careful.” 

“ And lose that grand fortune the late J udge Tor- 
wood — rest his soul ! — left me. That would never 


198 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

do. 1 must screw my courage to the sticking 
point somehow before long. It’s a fearful trial, 
though.” 

“ And what does Lucy Tor wood say \ ” 

“ Lots of things. The fact is, she is getting tired 
of saying, and is beginning to give me up in despair. 
Oh, it’s of no use ; I must be up and doing ! I think 
I shall begin at the eldest, and go through the four 
with tlie same question ; surely, one out of so many 
will accept.” 

“ You had better not ask Lucy. I have a prior 
claim, remember.” 

Should be happy to oblige you, my dear sir, but 
in this matter you must excuse me. Lucy is so much 
at home in Tor wood Towers it would be a pity to 
take her out of it.” 

‘‘ Look here, Stuart,” said Mr. McPherson, chang- 
ing his tone suddenly, and leaning across the table ; 
“ is it true that Angus Torwood has left ? ” 

“ Quite true.” 

“ And that he and St. Leon fought a duel before 
leaving about — about a certain young lady ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ You were out fishing with St. Leon yesterday 
weren’t you ? ” 

‘‘ I was.” 

“You are very great friends, I suppose % ” 

“ Yery — thick as pickpockets.” 

“ Might one venture to ask your opinion of the 
young gentleman ? ” 

“Yes and take your answer in two words — un- 
mitigated scoundrel.” 

“Help yourself to potatoes! An unmitigated 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 199 

scoundrel ! Dear me ! are you not a little severe, 
Dr. Stuart ? ’’ 

“ Giaccorao St. Leon is an unmitigated scoundrel,” 
Dr. Stuart repeated, ‘‘ and he knows it himself, and 
knows that I know it ! ” 

“ And yet you are friends ? ” 

‘‘ Are we ? I wish you had heard us yesterday 
over our hooks and lines. ‘ I know I am acting like 
a villain, for whom hanging would be a thousand 
times too good,” owned Mr. St. Leon, with charming 
frankness ; ‘ but it is my destiny, and I must go on.’ 
You see, the fellow is a fatalist, and he believes that 
Avhat is to be will be.” 

“ And you ? Are you a fatalist, too ? ” 

Dr. Stuart’s face deepened in its gravity. 

“ I am a Christian, Mr. McPherson, as I hope you 
know ; and believe in Providence, not in fate.” 

There was silence for a moment, both looked seri- 
ous, and Dr. Stuart had dropped for once his mock- 
ing tone and doubtful smile. 

o 

“Knowing all this,” said Mr. McPherson, “I do 
not see how you can reconcile it with your con- 
science to be hi^ friend.” 

“ My dear sir, I never said I \vas his friend. It 
wsis yourseK. I should be sorry to be a friend of 
his. 

“ You are often with him, then.” 

“ Oh, to be sure ! He interests me as something 
new and piquant, and I have been before now in the 
society of the most notorious blacklegs of He.w 
York, and enjoyed it much. I have a low taste, I 
am afraid, for such vulgar studies from nature.” 

“ Dr. Paul Stuart,” said Mr. McPherson, laying 


200 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


down his knife and fork with emphasis,” you are not 
a good man, you are not a conscientious man, or you 
never would let Edith Torwood become his wife.” 

“ My very dear sir,” said the doctor, a smile 
breaking the stern gravity of his face, “ how could I 
help it ? 

“ You could tell her what you have told me.” 

“ She would not listen ; she would not believe.” 

“ She might ; she is a sensible girl.” 

“ Fearfully so, on every point, but this.” 

“ It is your duty to try.” 

“ And be laughed at for my pains.” 

‘‘ Be it so ; a laugh will not hurt you, and you 
will have done your duty.” 

“ But Mr. St. Leon told me in confidence that he was 
a villain,” said the young doctor, looking amused ; 
“ would it be honorable ? ” 

‘‘ Honor among thieves ! I have only one thing 
to say to you. Dr. Stuart — you are as great a villain 
as he, if you do not try your best to prevent this 
marriage.” 

“ My good friend,” said Dr. Stuart, rising from 
the table, “ be easy ; this marriage will never take 
place ! ” 

“ Ho ? and why ? ” 

For the very best reason in the woild.” 

“ What is it ? ” 

‘‘ Will you promise not to faint if I tell you? 

“ I’ll do my best — go on 1 ” 

“ Then Giaccomo St. Leon will not marry Edith 
Torwood, because he is married already.” 

“ What ? ” pried the minister, in shrill consterna- 
tion. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. ^Ot 

“ There you go ! 1 tokl you to keep cool ! Yes, 

sir, Mr. St. Leon was married this morning, in the 
Episcopal Church, and by the Episcopal clergyman 
of Tor wood town.” 

“ To whom ? ” Mr. McPherson was just able to 
gasp. 

“To Florence Tor wood, third daughter of the late 
Judge Tor wood, of Tor wood Towers.” 

“ Mr. McPherson did not speak ; he could not ; 
he sat perfectly dumb, only staring in hopeless con- 
sternation at the composed speaker. 

Dr. Stuart laughed at his horror-struck face. 

“ Don’t look so utterly dazed, my dear sir ! Did 
you never before hear of a gentleman being engaged 
to one lady and marrying another ? Besides, you 
might have foreseen this.” 

Mr. McPherson, finding breath at last, took out his 
snuff box, drew up about twice the usual supply, and 
fortified by its pungency, was able to speak once 
more. 

“ And how many know of this ? ” he demanded. 

“ Let me see,” said the doctor, beginning to reckon 
on his fingers, “ one, two, three, four, five, six. Six 
people, I believe.” 

“ Is Edith Torwood one of the six ? ” 

“ Ko indeed. Mr, and Mrs. St. Leon make two 
(or did before they were made one), I am three, you 
are four, and the clergyman five, and one other per- 
son, six ! ” 

“ Don’t be mysterious. Who is the other person ? ” 

“IS'ever mind,” said Dr. Stuart, the doubtful smile 
dawning on his face again ; “ perhaps you may learn 
that one day. But, you see, Miss Edith is never 


202 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


likely to be St. Leon’s wife, since be has taken to bis 
bosom the fair, the fat, the fascinating Florence.” 

The minister took snuff a second time. 

“ Bless my soul ! I never was so amazed. And 
what a scene there will be when that hot-blooded 
Edith hears it.” 

“ No, I think not. Edith Torwood might make 
a scene about other things, not about this. She is 
by far too proud to wear her heart on her sleeve 
for daws to peck at.” 

“ You begin to admire her a little, I think.” 

‘‘ I admire her more than a little. 

“ It has lately come to you, then.” 

‘‘By no means. I admired her from the first, but 
did not quite understand her.” 

“ You understand her now ?” 

“ I think so. She is what you said she was one 
evening at the Towers — a fine girl.” 

“Dr. Stuart! ” exclaimed Mr. McPherson, “you 
have made your choice among the sisters! ” 

“ I have,” replied Dr. Stuart, serenely. 

“ And it is not Lucy ? ” 

“ No ; it is Edith.” 

Mr. McPherson leaned back in his chair, and took 
snuff for the third time. 

“ The very last one of all,” he murmured, help- 
lessly, “ I should have suspected.” 

“ Of course. We always do marry the very last 
person our friends would have expected.” 

“ But she won’t have you ! ” cried Mr. McPher- 
son, triumphantly. 

“Won’t she? Don’t be too sure of that. Time 
works wonders.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 203 

“Besides, she will be sick of all mankind after 
this. You take a very poor time for proposing.” 

“That shows how little 3 ^ou know of human 
hearts ! Hearts, like balls, are to be caught on the 
rebound.” 

“ What will she say when she finds out that you 
have deceived her ?” 

“ I have not deceived her.” 

“ Yes, you have. You knew of St. Leon’s false- 
hood, and yet kept it secret.” 

“ She will thank me for it some day when she 
awakes from her delusions, and comes to her right 
senses.” 

“ That is, when she is Mrs. S. ! ” 

“Yery likely; better be that than Madame St. 
Leon ! Besides, my dear fellow, what good would 
come of my telling ? It would have prevented 
nothing that has occurred. I helped nothing on — 
1 merely stood still, and let events take their 
course.” 

“ And a sweet course they have taken. What is 
to be the next move in the game ? ” 

“ My next move must be for Torwood Towers,” 
said Dr. Stuart, pulling out his watch ; “ that of 
and Mrs. St. Leon will probably be to absquat- 
ulate.” 

“ And Florence forfeits her share of her father’s 
money. That will be a loss.” 

“ It might be to common mortals, but they will 
never think of it, you know. They will live on 
love, and all that sort of thing ! ” 

“ Humph ! we have a proverb in Scotland : ‘ A 
kiss and a drink of water make but a poor break- 


204 the SISTEES OF TORWOOD. 

fast ! ’ Love is very unsubstantial diet — Florence 
will get thin on it, I am afraid.” 

Dr. Stuart laughed, and put on his hat. 

“When are we to see your reverence at the 
Towers ? ” 

“ Not until the gale blows over, I think. Tor- 
wood Towers will be a home of discord only for 
awhile, I dare say.” 

“ To one, perhaps. AVell, good-morning.” 

“ One parting question,” said Mr. McPherson, pro- 
ducing his snuff-box for the fourth time ; “ when do 
you propose for Edith ? ” 

Dr. Stuart had his hand on the door-knob, but he 
turned round again. 

“ Did you see the new moon last night ? ” was 
his seemingly irrelevant question. 

“ I don’t know. Was there a new moon ? ” 

“Yes; and before that new moon wanes Edith 
Torwood either shall say yes or no. Good-morning, 
sir.” 

After which Dr. Stuart rode home, his conscience 
relieved by an open confession. As he rode up the 
front avenue, he overtook an equestrienne riding even 
more slowly than himself. Not Madge — Madge never 
rode a white horse — never rode any horse black or 
white, at that funeral pace, and did not affect 
bright blue riding-habits. The equestrienne turned 
round, and under the brim of a white straw hat, 
shaded by plumes of white and azure, he saw a 
lovely young face, fresh, rosy, and blooming as an- 
other Hebe’s ; all the tinseled gold ringlets, braided, 
and twisted, and knotted back, seeing that curls 
under a riding-habit was an abomination; the 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 205 

plump, rounded form set off by the blue habit, the 
pretty hands adorned with buff gauntlets — a picture 
altogether bright as a poet’s vision. Dr. Stuart 
lifted his hat, and bent to his saddle bow. 

“ Good-morning, Miss Florence — it is something 
new to find you on horseback. Been to town ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Florence, and up to her temples rose 
the guilty blood again. 

‘‘ A delightful morning for such a canter. Per- 
mit me to assist you.” 

He lifted her from the saddle, and, only too glad 
to escape, Florence ran up the piazza steps. There 
another disagreeable encounter awaited her. Edith 
stood on the piazza, in dinner costume, a book in her 
hand, waiting — waitingfor one who would not come 
— who never would come again. But Florence did 
not wait to be add ressed ; she scarcely looked at her 
as she hurried by and entered the house. Dr. Stuart 
might have been more polite, but Edith’s eyes 
dropped on her book at his approach, and never lifted, 
as she bent her head at his greeting. Bather dis- 
couraging, perhaps, for a man who had announced 
his intention of marrying her ; but Dr. Stuart was 
not easily discouraged, and went into the dining 
room whistling a tune. 

All the rest of the afternoon the doctor covertly 
watched Edith, and Edith watched openly for some 
one who did not come. Lamp-light hour came, and 
Edith was at the piano, her restless fingers wander- 
ing aimlessly over the keys, a feverish fire of expecta- 
tion burning in her eyes and cheeks. Florence was 
there, too, holding a book in which she seemed utter- 
ly absorbed, quite unconscious of the fact that she 


2o6 the sisters of torwood. 

was holding it upside down. So, while Edith played, 
and Florence read, and Dr. Stuart watched, all were 
thinking of the same individual, who probably at 
that very time was serenely smoking his cheroots, 
and wondering Avhat his destiny had in store for him 
next. 

Eleven struck from the hall clock. Susie, the col- 
ored chambermaid, came in with a tray of bed-room 
candlesticks, good-night was said, and the family at 
Torwood Towers separated for the night. 

Twelve struck, and all were, or should have been, 
in bed ; but in one room a girl was walking up and 
down, up and down, with a wild, strange fire burn- 
ing in her dark eyes ; in another room a fairer girl, 
shawled and hooded, sat, watch in hand, counting, 
the minutes ; while a third figure, not at all girlish 
was out on the piazza, watching the stars, and wait- 
ing for what was to come. 

The night was clear, and still, and bright; the 
sounds of silence — the slipping of a snake, the crack- 
ing of a dry branch, the chirping of the birds in their 
nests, the dull, regular splash of the waves on the 
shore, the slow murmur of the night ait in the trees, 
the ticking of the old hall clock— were distinctly 
audible to the figure standing in the shadow of the 
piazza pillars — waiting — waiting. One o’clock— two 
o’clock, and then his vigil was over. He had heard 
something — the sound of wheels; he had seen some- 
thing— a shawled and hooded figure flit like a guilty 
ghost out of the front door, down the stairs, and 
disappear into the night, and then he came in. 

The hall lamp shone for a moment on a pale 
face— pale with watching in the night air, perhaps ; 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 207 

but he was half-smiling, half talking to himself for 
all. 

‘‘ So the second act of the drama is over,” he was 
soliloquizing — first, marriage — then elopement. 
The third, the last, the great denouement^ is to come 
yet. Won’t there be the dickens to pay to-morrow 
morning ? ” 

Three, four, live, six ! The old clock, with its 
sonorous voice, tolled the hours, as it had tolled them 
for fifty years, and a new day had dawned on the 
world. 

Dr. Stuart was up with the sun, scarcely wearing 
so fresh and florid a complexion as that luminary, 
though. As he paced up and down the courtyard, 
he cast occasional glances up at the windows of the 
sleeping chambers occupied by tlie young ladies. 
The blinds were down in the rooms of Edith and 
Florence, but while he looked Lucy’s window opened, 
and Lucy’s pretty face smiled good-morning. Five 
minutes after there was a meny shout on the piazza, 
and Madge came bounding down, with Sancho, as 
usual, gamboling furiously around her. 

“ Where now, Donna Quixote ? ” he asked. 

“ Everywhere. I think I’ll run over to Torwood- 
town, and blow up Mr. Jackeymo St. Leon for not 
being here yesterday. Anybody could see Edith 
was fidgeting to death about it. Oh, what a nice 
thing it must be to get in love ! Come along, 
Sancho.” 

Madge was out of sight directly, but she did not 
go all the way to Torwoodtown, for she was back 
at the breakfast hour, with her spirits and appetite 
greatly improved — neither for that matter, standing 


2o8 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


much in need of improvement. The doctor escorted 
her to the dining-room, where Edith sat alone ; and 
a moment after Lucy entered, with a servant behind 
her, bearing coffee and toast. 

‘‘ Have any of you good people seen Florence this 
morning ? ” she asked. “ She is not in the house, 
and it is the first time since her return she has been 
out of it before breakfast. I have been to her room, 
and she is not there.” 

“ Did you look in the pantry, Lucy ? ” demanded 
pert Madge, and the doctor smiled at her character- 
istic remark. 

‘‘ For shame, Madge ! Did she sleep with you 
last night Edith ? ” 

“ Ho.” 

“lEs very odd! Well, Susie, what do you 
want ? ” 

“ Please, Miss Lucy,” said the chambermaid, pre- 
senting a letter, “ Miss Floy gave me this yer last 
night, and told me to give it to you this morning at 
breakfast.” 

Was it some presentiment of what it contained 
that made Lucy turn suddenly white ? Madge and 
Edith stared, and the doctor drew a long breath, as 
if bracing himself for the scene to come. 

“ Gave you this last night ? ” faltered Lucy. “ At 
what time ? What did she say ? ” 

‘‘After all you was to bed. Miss Floy she rung 
her bell, and I went up, and then she gave me this 
letter, and told me I was to hand it to you. Miss 
Lucy, at breakfast, and then she shut her door, and 
I don’t know nothin’ more ’tall about it.” 

“ Open it, Lucy ! open it 1 ” cried Madge, quite 


THE SISTERS OP TORWOOD. 2og 

curiously. Clear out, Susie ! What on earth has 
Florence been up to now ? ” 

Lucy did open the letter, but her hands shook 
while doing it. Two minutes after it had dropped 
on the floor and Avith a shrill scream her hands flew 
up and covered her white face. 

“ La ! ” cried Madge, her black eyes starting to 
that degree in her astonishment that there seemed 
some danger of their dropping out on the carpet. 
“ What is the matter? May I read this, Lucy ? ” 
But Lucy did not, seemingly could not, speak, so 
great Avas the first shock. She had sunk into a chair, 
her face still hidden in her hands, and Madge, tak- 
ing silence for assent picked up the fallen document. 
It was short, sharp, ard decisive, a model of sensi- 
ble composition. 

“ My Dear Lucy I address you, being the 
elder, and the only one under the circumstances I 
can very Avell address. I Avas married yesterday to 
Mr. St. Leon, and will leave here with him to-night 
to avoid a fuss. I beg you Avill not make a time 
about this, and Edith may as Avell take it quietly, 
because being angry and scolding Avill do no good 
noAv. I could not help being prettier than she is, 
and having Mr. St. Leon like me better, and so you 
may tell her. Of course I must leave my trunks and 
things behind for the present, but when Giaccomo 
and I get settled I will send you my address and 
you can forward them. Don’t let Madge get at my 
dresses or she will spoil them, she is so rough ; and 
tell Dr. Stuart that I hope he will not be mean 
enough to keep my share of the legacy because I 
could not marry him. I declare I am real glad to 
get aAA^ay from Tor wood Towers, for it’s the most 
dismal old place I ever saw. Good-by, my dear 

14 


210 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

Lucy ; I will write to you again as soon as possible, 
and be sure you send me everything. 

“ Your affectionate sister, 

“Florence St. Leon. 

“ P. S. — Is not the name pretty ? I entreat you 
will not let Madge in my room, as she is sure to 
spoil everything she lays her hands on.” 

Madge read the letter over twice — at first in- 
credulously, then with a horrible sense of its truth. 
Before she came to the end the second time her 
honest face was absolutely purple Avith suppressed 
rage. Of all her presentiments of impending 
danger, she had dreamed of nothing so bad as this, 
and she crumpled the missive up in her hand, and 
glared vindictively around her. 

“ If I only had a hold of her ! ” said Madge, claw- 
ing the air viciously with her other hand, “ I’d teach 
her whether I spoiled everything I laid my hands 
on ! The mean, treacherous, deceitful ” 

“Madge!” Edith suddenly said, rising, “what 
has Florence done ? Avhat is that letter about ? ” 

Madge had forgotten Edith. Lucy had not, and 
she arose too, Avhite Avith dismay. 

“ Oh, Edith ! hoAV shall Ave tell you ? how shall 
Ave tell you ? ” 

The fire that intense excitement lighted in Edith’s 
eyes Avas burning there noAV, as she resolutely held 
out her hand. 

“ Give me the letter ? ” 

Madge looked appealingly at Lucy : but Lucy, 
wringing her hands, could offer no suggestion. 

“ Take it then,” exclaimed Madge in desperation ; 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


2II 


“ and if I could choke the pair of them I would do 
it with the greatest pleasure.” 

With the letter in her hand, Edith crossed over 
to one of the windows, and Dr. Stuart, looking very 
grave, arose to quit the room. Lucy turned implor- 
ingly to him her white and frightened face. 

“ I think we had all better leave her alone for a 
while,” he said in passing, and Luc}^ beckoning to 
Madge, followed him out on the piazza. But Madge’s 
curiosity prompted her to linger at the door, and 
she saw the letter read once, twice, three times, 
while the dark figure at the window stood as still 
as if carved in stone. 

“ Madge,” Lucy said, come away ! ” And Madge 
came over to where Lucy stood, trembling and pale, 
and, holding on by the railing, began, from sheer 
inability to keep quiet, a little hornpipe of anxiety. 
So half an hour passed in total silence, then Madge 
could hold in no longer. 

“ Look here, Lucy ! are we to stand here all day, 
I want to know ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, Madge ! we can’t go in while Edith is there. 
I am afraid.” 

Madge went over on tiptoe and peeped through 
the dinning-room window. 

She isn’t there, she’s gone ? The coast’s clear 
— come along ! ” 

Yes, Edith had gone, and the three sat down to 
breakfast and rose again, with everything almost 
untasted. Madge started off immediately, and an- 
nounced her intention of dining with Mr. McPher- 
son, and not returning until night. Dr. Stuart ac- 
companied her, and Lucy was left alone in a state 


212 


THE SISTERS OP TORWOOD. 


of miserable anxiety not to be described. Once 
during the course of the day she ventured up to 
Edith’s room, and listened at the door, but the 
silence of the grave reigned within. She had even 
ventured in her terror to turn the handle and look 
in ; yes, Edith was there, sitting by the window, 
her hands tightly locked together in her lap, and 
the letter clasped between them, her face turned to 
the sea. Lucy could not see it, and not daring to 
speak, she stole out again, and left the lonely watcher 
to keep her vigil undisturbed. 

Next morning, in passing from her own chamber 
down-stairs, Lucy ventured to look in again. The 
pale shadow in black sat by the window still, as if 
she had never once moved — as if she had sat there 
through the livelong night. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


213 


CHAPTER XYIII. 
the; invalid. 

Dr. Paul Stuart, according to custom, standing 
on the piazza before breakfast that morning, felt 
himself touched lightly on the arm, and looking 
round saw the anxious face of Lucy Torwood. 

“ Dr. Stuart,” she hurriedly began, “ what shall I 
do about Edith ? I have nobody to advise me, and 
I declare I am worried nearly to death about this 
wretched business.” 

She looked it ; a more troubled and distressed 
countenance than that uplifted pleadingly to his the 
young doctor had seldom seen. 

“It is a wretched business indeed,” he gravely 
said. “ In what way can I be of service to you. 
Miss Torwood ? ” ' 

“I don’t know what to do about Edith. She sat 
in her room all yesterday, and never ate a mouth- 
ful. She sat up all night without once going asleep, 
I am sure ; and who is to tell she may not do the 
same to-day ? She will kill herself if she keeps on, 
and I don’t know what to do.” 

Lucy was twisting her fingers and looking as if 
about to cry, and the heartless young doctor had 
some difficulty to repress a smile at her distress. 

“ Why do you not go and speak to her, then ? ” 

“ Dr. Stuart, I am afraid.” 


214 


THE SISTERS OF ToRWOOD. 


Of what ? 

Of her ; she is so — so passionate ; and I know 
she feels so deeply on this point.” 

‘‘ It is probable she does. Still I see nothing for 
it but to 

‘ Beard the lion in his den, 

The Douglas in his hall,’ 

and Miss Edith in her room. Suppose you step up 
and ask her to come down to breakfast.” 

There was no way to avoid it, Lucy saw, and with 
that same air of hopeless distress, she turned away 
and went slowly up-stairs to her unwelcome task. 
At the door she had to pause, unable for some time 
to summon courage to knock ; then, in sheer despera- 
tion, and with a fast beating heart, she rapped. 
She did not expect an answer, but to her surprise the 
door opened and Edith stood before her. 

The girl was wrapped in a large shawl, and was 
shivering under it, though the morning was sultry ; 
her face was set and stony, her large black eyes 
looked unnaturally large and luminous, with dark 
circles under them, and the compressed lips and bent 
brow told their own tale of bitter endurance. It 
was plain to see the first shock was over, and that 
in the long and lonely watch of that dreary last niglit 
she had formed some resolution, whether of forgive- 
ness or revenge she best knew. Wrapped in the 
shawl, and holding the door handle, she stood look- 
ing at her sister out of those weird, spectral eyes, 
solemn and silent. 

Lucy, in a violent tremor, essayed once or twice 
to speak, faltered, and broke down. Naturally timid 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 2l5 

and shrinking, Lucy had always felt a dread of this 
dark, fierce Creole, and now, in her bereavement, she 
stood before her as she might have before a half 
tamed tigress robbed of her young. 

“ You will not be angry, Edith, but I ” 

Edith suddenly lifted her hand, and interrupted : 

“ One moment, if you please. I do not know 
what you are going to say ; but I give you warning 
beforehand, not to say one word of what is past and 
gone. More — 1 never want to hear those names 
from you or any one in this house ; if I do, I shall 
leave it five minutes after, and forever. Now, go 
on with what you came to say.” 

I had no intention of saying one word about — 

about ” Lucy broke down. “I only came to ask 

you to take some breakfast. If you will not come 
down, I will fetch it up here.” 

You need not. I will go down. Have you any- 
thing more to say to me?” 

There were a thousand things Lucy would like to 
have said, but she dared not utter one. Sorrowfully 
she turned away. 

“I will go down,” Edith repeated, closing the 
door, ‘^as soon as the bell rings.” 

Whatever Lucy had looked for from Edith, she 
had not expected this ominous calm, and it filled her 
with more foreboding than any violence could have 
done. Madge had joined Dr. Stuart in the din- 
ing-room, and Lucy related the short interview that 
had taken place, and repeated Edith’s warning. 

“ La ! ” cried Madge, with an impatient jerk of 
her shoulders, ‘‘ she might have spared herself the 
trouble ! I am sure we’ll be hard up for something 


2i6 the sisters of torwood. 

to saj when we want to talk about that disgraceful, 
misbehaved pair, Mr. and Mrs. St. Leon.” 

The breakfast bell rang during this outburst, and 
before its last sound died away Edith quietly walked 
into the room. Her toilet was as carefully made, 
her hair as daintily arranged, her manner as com- 
posed as they had ever seen it ; but there was that 
in her face that would have warned them not to 
trust too far to this quietude, even if her own lips 
had not done so already. Except that they were 
all very still and silent, saying what was said in very 
low voices, everything was just the same as ever. 
Just the same as ever, too, Edith sat down at the 
sweet-toned old parlor organ when it was over, and 
played the airs she loved so well, from Beethoven, 
so sweet, so solemn, so sad. Then, still the same as 
ever, she selected a book, put on her straAV hat, and 
went out into the grounds for a morning walk. 

And so it was all over, the worst had arrived, and 
nothing was to come of it after all. Madge felt 
cheated, and made no secret of her disappointment. 

“ To think ! ” resentfulH broke out the youngest 
Miss Torwood, that she should take that mean 
Florence at her word, and make no fuss after all. 
If she were made of milk and water, like Lucy now, 
nobody would wonder ; but such a fire-eater as we 
all took her to be. Oh 1 if I were in her place, what 
a jolly row there would have been ! ” 

“What would you have done?” inquired Dr. 
Stuart. 

“ Ah ! 3 ^ou would like to know, wouldn’t you ? ” 
said Madge, with a shower of mysterious nods ; 
“ just you try the same dodge with me, and you’lj 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

find out ! How I should admire to have Jackeymo 
St. Leon’s beautiful face within reach of my nails for 
about ten minutes — that’s all ! But, then, I always 
knew how it would be. What good could be ex- 
pected from a man with such a name as that? ” 

‘‘ Her quietness is tlie strangest thing of all,” said 
Lucy, uneasily ; “ she can’t have cared so much for 
Mr. St. Leon as we would have thought.” 

Dr. Stuart smiled to himself at his own thoughts, 
but said nothing. 

“ It isn’t that,” said Madge, who was ever ready 
with her own opinion, “ but she’s a Torwood, and 
consequently too plucky to wear her heart on her 
sleeve. Even you, Lucy, though you do appear as 
meek as a new-born kitten, if you were jilted, would 
feel the Torwood spirit burning within you ; and, as 
for me — but the English language is too weak to ex- 
press Avhat I Avould do in such a case ! ” 

So Lucy, and Madge, and Dr. Stuart, each Avith 
her or his OAvn thoughts of Edith, went about their 
daily occupations, and Edith, proud as a Spartan, 
kept her thoughts to herself. In one thing Madge 
Avas right. Edith Avas not one to Avear her heart on 
her sleeve ; she would rather have been struck in the 
face than pitied. But she suffered physically and 
mentally ; they all could see that. 

During the days that followed, and many did fol- 
loAV, in one of her late evening rambles among the 
rank herbage of the shrubbery, some breath of mi- 
asma, lurking in the Ioav SAvampy meadows, had 
entered her lungs, and from that time her veins were 
filled AAuth a Ioav consuming feAw that Avas slowly 
burning her life away. All the life, all the spirit, all 


2i8 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


the energy she hatl ever possessed was eaten away 
by the low fire of fever. Languid of step, dull of 
eye, listless of motion, faint of voice, she wandered 
from room to room of the old house, the shadow of 
her former self. Another fever came with it, a des- 
perate longing for home, for her sunny Cuba, that 
tortured her day and night. If she could only wan- 
der under the orange trees, and feel their scented 
breath on her wan cheek ; if she could only sit in the 
tropical sunshine once more, she felt she might be 
well. But she was too weak to have gone, were it 
even in her power, so the listless days and sleepless 
nights were wearing on, and with them, Edith was 
wearing away like the Avaning moon. 

They were all very kind and gentle with her now ; 
even Madame Torwood was tender Adth the pale, 
weak girl, Avho never complained. Lucy Avas the 
most devoted of nurses, anticipating her every wish. 
Madge did Avhat she could, did her best, and, alas 
for poor madcap Madge, that best Avas not much. 

‘‘ 1 AAHsh I could do something, you knoAV,” she 
said, pathetically in confidence to Dr. Stuart, “but 
I can’t. I try not to bounce and slam doors, and not 
talk in a voice pitched at the top of the octave ; 
but law ! what good does that do Edith ? I don’t 
believe there ever was such another rough, boister- 
ous, hateful creature as I am.” 

Bnt of all Avho Avere kind to the Creole none did 
so much as Dr. Stuart. The rare bouquets that 
every day found their Avay to her room, the number- 
less magazines, books, music, delicate fruit, and 
countless trifles, small in themselves, but all by some 
strange magnetism the very things she had been 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 2ig 

wishing for, came from him. She did not know this 
at first; but one day when Madge came up-stairs, 
with an unusually gorgeous bouquet of hot-house 
flowers, Edith, lying wearily on a lounge, rose up on 
her elbow, her dull eyes sparkling with some of their 
old luster. 

“ How beautiful ! how fragrant ! I was just wisli- 
ing for violets ! Madge,” impetuously, “where do all 
these lovely flowers come from ? ” 

Madge placed them in a porcelain vase with care, 
and stepped back to see the effect. 

“ From my castle in Spain ; there’s a patch of 
ground at the back of the castle where such trifles 
grow of themselves. Perfectly mag, ain’t they ? 
that being short for magnificent. 

“ Madge, I half suspect, but I want to be sure — 
who sent them ? ” 

“ Wouldn’t tell for a kingdom! Promised him, 
on the honor of a Torwood, I wouldn’t.” 

That little tell-tale pronoun ! Edith’s eyes turned 
resolutely away from the flowers, and her brows 
contracted a little as she rose up. Madge had 
flashed out as she had floated in, and Edith went 
slowly down-stairs, through the hall, and out on the 
piazza. As she stood there, the person of whom she 
was thinking. Dr. Stuart himself, came up, and made 
her in passing a courtly bow. 

“ Are you better this afternoon. Miss Editli ? you 
hardly look as well as yesterday, I think.” 

There was something so genial and kindly in his 
voice, such real solicitude in his face, so much that 
was good in his frank blue eyes, that Edith could 
not repel him. The mocking smile and derisive 


220 


THE SISTERS OP TORWOOD. 


glance were no longer there, were never there when 
he spoke to her, and Edith was remembering all he 
had done for her, so delicately and unobtrusively of 
late.’’ 

“I do not feel any better,” she said, “ and I ’’ — 
thank you for your flowers, she wanted to say, but 
she could not somehow, and stopped short. 

“ I am very sorry,” and he looked as though he 
meant it. The afternoon is lovely, and a walk on 
the beach would do you good, I think. Or, if you 
feel too weak, and would ride or sail with Madge 
and me ” 

“ Thank you, I am quite strong enough to walk.” 

“ I saw Father Peterson in Torwoodtown just 
now, and he bade me tell you he would' call to see 
you to-morrow, and fetch you the book you wanted.” 

She bent her head only, and Dr. Stuart went in, 
and Edith’s memory was haunted by a hundred 
little kind things he had done for her comfort of 
late, making up in number what they wanted in 
weight, all in such a retiring, secret way, too. 

“ I don’t want to like that man,” she said, speak- 
ing unconsciously alone ; “ and yet ” 

‘‘ And yet one can’t help it,” said a voice behind 
her ; “ my case exactly.” 

It was Madge, of course. Edith only smiled, and 
turned to go down the piazza steps. 

“ "What are you going to do ? ” Madge asked. 

The faint smile was still on Edith’s lips. 

“ To obey Dr. Stuart, my dear. He has pre- 
scrbed a walk on the beach, and I am going to take 
it.” 

“ Shall I go with you ? ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


221 


“ You had better not. I walk so very slowly 1 
would tire you to death.” 

“ All right,” said Madge, throwing up her hat and 
catching it dextrously ; “ I despise slow walking* be- 
yond everything, and, besides, I find my constitu- 
tion requires a sail ; so good-by to you.” 


222 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD, 


CHAPTEE XIX. 

AS THE SHADOWS FELL. 

Yery slow indeed was the pace at which Edith 
walked through the tangled shrubbery toward the 
shore; but slow as it was, she was completely ex- 
hausted by the time it was reached. Under the 
cool shadow of a large Avillow a rustic chair of 
boughs had been erected for her accommodation, by 
Dr. Stuart, and she sank down within its green arms, 
her heart palpitating in great surges against her side. 
She was lying back, Avith panting lips and closed 
eyes Avhen a step behind her made her look round ; 
Dr. Stuart again, this time AAuth two bunches of 
luscious green and purple grapes, Avrapped in vine 
leaves, and which the next instant were lying in her 
lap. 

“ Lucy has been telling me of the feverish thirst 
that has tormented you all day, and in my medical 
sovereignty I prescribe grapes. Excuse me for in- 
truding.” 

He Avas turning away again, but she called him 
back. Feverishly thirsty, even then she had been 
wishing for something to allay it, and his gift Avas 
most Avelcome indeed. With an impulsive frankness 
that came to her sometimes, she held out her hand 
for the first time in friendliness to him. 

“ Dr. Stuart,” she said, something like color flush- 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 223 

ing for a second into her colorless face, “ you are 
very kind, and it is time for me to thank you at 
least.” 

“ I require no thanks,” he said hastily, just touch- 
ing the poor wan hand, and dropping it again. “ If 
my humble offerings have given you a moment’s 
pleasure I am more than repaid.” 

Edith looked at him wistfully, but his eyes were 
averted, and his face strangely grave. 

“ Perhaps I have wronged you,” she said ; “ I 
don’t know. If I have thought more hardly of you 
than I should, I beg your pardon.” 

“ Edith — Miss Torwood— ” 

“ Oh, say Edith — I like it best from my friends.” 

She smiled a little at herself to think she was say- 
ing such a thing to this abhorred young doctor ; but 
no answering smile moved the dark gravity of his 
earnest face. 

“ You have not thought more hardly of me than I 
deserved— than I seem to deserve, at least. How 
could you do otherwise than despise one who could 
seemingly agree to rob four orphan girls of their 
birthright ” 

Her face clouded and she sat silent. Why did he 
remind her of that when she was trying to think 
well of him, trying to see him at his best ? 

Perhaps I am not really so bad, so despicable as 
I have appeared ; but that involves a long explana- 
tion, and you may not be equal to it now — are 
you ?” 

No,” she said, wearily, I am feeble this even- 
ing. To-morrow, some other time, I will listen to 
what you have to say.” 


224 the sisters of torwood. 

“ I have many things to say, and when you have 
heard and answered I shall leave Torwood Towers, 

perhaps for a time, perhaps ” a pause and a 

little tremor of the steady voice, “forever.” 

“ Forever ! ” Edith echoed faintly. 

“ Yes ; it all depends on you ! And now, good- 
evening. Eat your grapes, and do not stay out after 
the dew begins to fall,” 

Breaking into a grave smile for the first time at 
her wondering look. Dr. Stuart walked away. Edith 
did look after him wonderingly for a moment or 
two, but she was too weak and listless even to 
wonder long ; so she began obeying his orders like 
a little child, eating her grapes and watching dreamily 
the boats sailing by over the sunny waves. 

A ship far out lay at anchor, and the sailors were 
singing in chorus ; the waves plashing at her feet 
kept time to their music, and the July breeze mur- 
mured mystically among the leaves and branches of 
the golden willow over her head. In the dream v 
warmth and lazy sunshine in the monotonous music 
of birds and waves and wind, Edith’s eyes grew 
heavy, her pale fingers ceased to lift the grapes to 
her dry lips, and in her rustic arm-chair, listening to 
it all, she fell asleep. 

And sleeping she dreamed. N o distinct and tangi- 
ble dream, but something vague, shadow, terrible, 
from which people wake and spring up, full of un- 
defined horror of— they know not what. Edith was 
conscious in her distempered vision of some huge 
and shapeless monster, with eyes and tongue of de- 
vouring flame and jaws extended, ready to spring 
upon and devour her; while afar off, looking on. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 225 

stood her treacherous sister and false lover, mock- 
ing her with their deriding eyes. 

With a start she awoke, and sat up in a violent 
tremor and faintness, awoke to tind the evening 
shadows dark around her, and the chill evening 
wind coming raw from the sea ; awoke to find it 
not all a dream, for a shape stood beside her, looming 
up gigantic in the dim light — a shape that clasped 
her suddenly in its shrouded arms, and muffled her 
head in a great shawl. 

Then for an instant of time all Edith’s strength 
came back — frantically she struggled — with one des- 
perate wrench she tore off the shawl, and one long, 
wild, shrill shriek awoke the lonely echoes of shore 
and wood. 

There was a fierce imprecation, a rough hand 
grasped her throat, a horrible sense of strangulation 
came over Edith, stars came dancing in a blood-red 
mist before her eyes, a roaring sound as of many 
waters filled her ears, and thus, with one long con- 
vulsive quiver life was gone, and her assailant bore 
away a stark and rigid burden. 

15 


226 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


CHAPTEE XX. 

IN THE HOSPITAL. 

A raw, bleak, spring day — mud and snow, and 
slush ankle deep in the streets, a sudden sky of lead 
frowning and lowering wrathfully over the good 
city of Washington; long, lamentable blasts tearing 
the hats off pedestrians, making grabs at the chil- 
dren on their way from afternoon school, clutching 
desperately at all sorts of stray waifs, and roaring 
off with them to sea, like Bottom the weaver, “ so 
that it would do any man’s heart good to hear it.” 
A chill and boisterous day, that had far more of 
winter gone than summer coming in its stepmother 
breath ; a day for blue noses, great-coats, and blaz- 
ing fires ; a day on which nobody Avas out who could 
possibly stay in, and people comfortably housed 
looked out through windows at luckless Avayfarers 
tramping Avith heads bowed, and hats frantically 
clutched in both hands, Avith a luxurious sense of 
enjoyment. 

Three men were walking together down Pennsyl- 
vania avenue, struggling manfully against the rough 
blasts, who had “ met by chance the usual Avay ” not 
ten minutes before. One common bond of sympathy 
made them glad to meet ; they Avere all from Tor- 
woodtown — Father Peterson, the Eev. Alexander 
McPherson, and young Mr. Moreen, who used to 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


227 


come long ago to that uprising little town to kill 
time fishing and gunning, and who at the first clash 
of war, had gone where glory led him, and so on — 
that is to say, had taken to soldiering, to kill that 
invincible enemy of his. Time. Young Mr. Moreen 
was young Lieutenant Moreen now ; but of what 
value were all his bright buttons and gay shoulder 
knots since Madge Torwood’s black eyes were not 
near to look on and approve. Entre noiis^ Madge 
Torwood said ‘‘L^o” one day to a very tender pro- 
posal from young Mr. Moreen, and most cruelly 
stuck to it ; so Mr. Moreen went to the war desolated, 
feeling that he would rather be shot than otherwise, 
since the only blessing life had for him, besides pale 
ale and cigars, was denied him. The Southern bul- 
lets flew by him harmlessly, however, while they 
laid low many a better man ; and Lieutenant Moreen, 
sound and unmaimed, is walking along the windy 
streets, busy in conversation, and frantic attempts 
to keep his military cap on. Said cap being set ex- 
cessively on one side of his head, and the gale being 
of the highest, is rather difficult to be kept from 
fijdng into the regions of space and at length an 
uncommonly obstreporous gust, howling paly fully 
along, makes a grab at it, and whirls it triumphantly 
down the street. 

Oh, hang it ! ” exclaims Lieutenant Moreen, in a 
passion, only prevented from using still more for- 
cible language by the presence of the clergy. I 
knew the confounded thing would go at last.” 

So did I,” observed Mr. McPherson with gravity, 
eyeing the gambols of the frisky headpiece ; if 
young soldiers will wear their caps on three hairs 


228 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


when the wind is fit to blow the horns off the cows, 
what else can they expect ? Go after it.” 

There being no alternative, the lieutenant, with a 
very ill grace, went, and returned very cross and 
red in the face. 

“ Never mind, lieutenant,” said Father Peterson, 
laughing good-naturedly, as even priests will do a. 
other people’s misfortune, ‘‘ there are worse disasters 
at sea. Go on with what you were saying.” 

“ About Stuart ? ” said the yoi3g man brighten- 
ing up at once with all a soldier’s enthusiasm. 
‘‘Well, sir, as I told you, he fought like a lion 
through the whole engagement, saved General 

K ’s life, very nearly losing his own in the act, and 

was a sort of modern Coeur de Lion throughout the 
whole affair. He got his reward, though, which is 
more than we all do, for they made him a colonel 
for it.” 

“ I saw all about it in the papers. You serve 
under him, eh ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ! ” said the lieutenant emphatically, “ I’d 
be sorry to serve under any one else. The whole 
regiment adore him.” 

“ He always was a fine fellow,” said the priest. 
“ I liked him in Torwoodtown, but I never thought 
he possessed the stuff heroes are made of.” 

“ Nor the stuff philanthropists are made of,” 
chimed in Mr. McPherson “ You have said he has 
founded a private hospital at his own expense here 
in the city, with the very best nurses and medical 
attendants.” 

“ Being one of his own staff,” said the lieutenant, 
“ for when he is done fighting he takes to doctoring, 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 2 29 

by way of being always busy. Well, good-day to 
your reverence — I turn off here.” 

Lifting his cap in a military salute, the soldier went 
round a corner, and the two clergymen Avalked on 
gether. 

“ I used to pride myself a little,” began Mr. Mc- 
Pherson, after a short silence, “ on being somewhat 
of a judge of human nature, but I confess this man 
baffled me. I never could quite make him out at 
Torwoodtown.” 

“ How was that ? ” 

“ About that will, you know. You heard of it, of 
course ? ” 

“ Of Judge Torwood’s ? Surely. What had that 
to do with it ? ” 

“ Everything ! What would you have thought of 
him had he complied with it ? ” 

“ And robbed the orphan sisters. Well, I must 
say 1 could hardly have thought him an archangel.” 

“ That is where he puzzled me,” said Mr. McPher- 
son. “ I never could clearly make out that he in- 
tended to refuse the bequest, and yet I could never 
persuade myself that he meant to accept. Dr. Stuart 
was an eccentric fellow in those days.” 

‘‘ Is he not now ? ” 

“lie is a changed man, sir — a grave earnest m^^n, 
living with a purpose — a benefactor, as I said, to his 
race.” 

What has Avrought this change ? ” 

“ The loss of Edith TorAVOod.” 

Both were silent then. 

“ He never really intended profiting by this most 
unfair will? ” the priest said. 


230 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


Certainly not. The legacy which made him a 
rich man, and of which his mother and all the 
world were ignorant, had fallen to him about a 
month before, and he was as wealthy as any 
Christian has a right to be. But as I said, he was 
eccentric, and it pleased him to come to Tor wood 
Towers, and see the play played out.” 

“Ah! the play that began like a comedy ended 
tragically enoimh. So he really meant to marry 
Edith Torwood?” 

“ If she would have had him, and I think myself 
she would when she knew him, and he intended to 
drop his mask, and show himself to her as he really 
was. He was the last one that ever saw her on 
that fatal night.” 

And no clew has been found all this time 

“ Not the slightest that I have heard of.” 

“ There can be no doubt, I suppose, that she was 
murdered ? ” 

“None at all! There was the blood, the indica- 
tions of the struggle, every thing to confirm it, and 
the sea was at hand to make a winding sheet that 
would tell no tale.” 

“ And so the whole affair is to be involved in mys- 
tery until that same sea shall give up its dead ! Do 
you know I liked that Creole girl ; with all her pride 
and fire, she was as humble in some ways as little 
child. She. used to play at the church every Sunday, 
and the music her fingers could evoke out of our poor 
old melodion was something wonderful.” 

“ I have heard her. Ah ! it was a great pity ! There 
was something grand in the girl’s nature that made 
one admire her in spite of one’s self. I don’t wonder 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


231 


Stuart has been a changed man since he lost lier, 
though there was a time when I fancied Lucy would 
have been his choice.” 

“ And there was a time,” smiled Father Peterson, 
“ when I thought Lucy would have been Mrs. Mc- 
Pherson before this.” 

Mr. McPherson produced his snuff-box. 

Have a pinch? Well, now, I don’t know about 
that ! On the whole, I think I’ll — see about it ! Are 
you going ?” 

“Yes; this is my destination. You are for the 
hospital, you said ? ” 

“ I think so. I want to have a look at the new 
nurses. Sisters of Charity ; and capital nurses they 
make. The colonel told me he was importing a batch 
of them, and they were to be there yesterday.” 

Smiling at the notion of a batch of nuns, the Kev. 
Mr. Peterson entered a house near, and Mr. McPher- 
son went on his way alone. That way led him into 
a quiet, remote street, where the city noises came 
muffled and faint, and toward a large stone building 
in an inclosed court-yard, looking drear and ghastly 
in the gray light of this windy spring day. At the 
outer gate two men stood, one tall and distinguished 
looking, in a long cloak and military cap, the other 
an orderly standing on guard. 

The tail man in the cloak turned at the approach 
of the minister, disclosing the face of Dr. Paul Stuart, 
but not the face he used to wear. Ho, it was strangely 
altered — brown, grave, earnest, the old mocking 
light gone out of the thoughtful yet kindly blue, eyes 
the old doubtful smile vanished from the compressed 
and mustached mouth. Yes, he was a changed 


232 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

man ; his very voice was not the same — was very 
different from the light, careless tone of other days. 

I have been expecting you,” he said, holding 
out his hand. “ Come in. Brown, you will attend 
to what I have been saying.” 

The orderly touched his cap. 

‘‘Yes, colonel.” 

The two men, the colonel and the clergyman, 
turned into the paved yard, side by side. 

“ I suppose this hospital of yours is filled, after 
your recent battle,” the latter said. 

“ Pretty well — yes. And who do you suppose 
makes one of its inmates ? ” 

“ How can I tell ? Who ? ” 

“ Captain Angus Tor wood.” 

“ You don’t say so ! Wounded ? ” 

“ Yes ; but not badly. We are sworn brothers-in- 
arms now — sort of modern David and Jonathan,” 
smiling slightly ; “ and the good sisters will have him 
as right as a trivet in no time.” 

“ The sisters are here, then ?” 

“Came last night. Would you like to see Tor- 
wood ? He did some splendid fighting in this last 
engagement of ours.” 

“ I don’t mind if I do,” said Mr. McPherson. “ I 
did not particularly admire him in Torwoodtown ; 
but, as other folks have changed, perhaps he has, 
too.” 

“ Meaning me,” smiled Colonel Stuart, as they en- 
tered the first ward, where, in long rows of beds, 
the sick soldiers lay. 

Passing down the long aisles between the rows, 
the young colonel paused there to speak to the poor 


SISTERS OF TORWOOD. ^33 

fellows, whose eyes brightened, and whose pale faces 
lit gladly at the sight of their commander. Here and 
there the black-robed sisters were flitting about, 
noiseless ministering angels, shod Avith the shoes of 
silence, and with touch and voice tenderly mod- 
ulated to suit suffering ears. 

Keaching one bed near the end of the row, the 
colonel came to a halt. A man, Avhose swarthy face, 
whitened by loss of blood, and looking still more 
Avhite contrasted Avith his jetty hair and mustache, 
reclined, propped up by pilloAvs, Avith one of the sis- 
ters standing beside him preparing some cooling 
draught. 

“ Good-morning, sister,” said the colonel. “ Hoav is 
our patient to-day ? ” 

The sister looked up, smiling. 

“ A most impatient patient, colonel ; he is chaflng 
himself into a fever at his confinement. Here, sir, 
drink this, and deny it if you can.” 

Angus Torwood drained the offered potion, half- 
smiling, too. 

“ Good-day to you, colonel. I fear I must plead 
guilty to my kind nurse’s charge. Why ” 

He stopped short, looking Avonderingly at the 
clergyman, Avhile the nun moved aAvay. 

“ I bring an old friend to see you, Torwood. You 
remember him, I knoAV.” 

Captain Angus Torwood held out his hand. 

“ My memory is a good one. I hope Mr. McPher- 
son finds himself well ? ” 

“Never better. Sorry to see you here, my 
young friend, but it is the fortune of Avar. TV^hat 
is it?” 


234 the sisters of torwood. 

“ A saber-thrust, that has lost me more blood than 
I can conveniently spare, but nothing of any con- 

se Hallo ! What’s gone wrong with the colonel ? 

By Jove ! he’s going to faint ! ” 

He might well start and exclaim. Colonel Stuart, 
standing quietly by the bedside, had suddenly turned 
as white as death, and grasped a chair for support. 
He uttered no cry nor exclamation : he had only re- 
coiled back, as if at some awful sight, turning white 
even to his lips. What was it at? There was noth- 
ing to be seen but the wmunded soldiers lying around, 
no one passing by but the nursing sisters. 

Mr. McPherson started, and took out his snuff-box, 
to relieve himself by a pinch. 

“ Shall 1 fetch you a glass of water, colonel ? You 
do look uncommonly bad, I allow. Anything 
wrong? ” 

Colonel Stuart, still startlingly pale, sank into a 
chair. 

‘‘Nothing that water can help. I have had a 
blow, that is all. Don’t mind me ; it will be over 
presently.” 

There was a table near. Colonel Stuart leaned 
his elbow on it, his forehead on his hand, and remain- 
ed immovable. Mr. McPherson, very much mysti- 
fied, went off to the next row of beds, and Angus 
Torwood sat and stared in greatest wonder. It 
w^as long before Colonel Stuart looked up, and when 
he did his face was like marble. 

“Captain Torwood,” he said, “are you strong 
enough to bear a shock ? ” 

“A shock! ” Angus repeated, staring harder than 

ever. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


235 


“Yes ; something very strange; something more 
wonderful than anything in fairy tales has just hap- 
pened.” 

Captain Torwood’s only reply to this was an in- 
crease of staring, if such a thing was possible, while 
an idea shot through his mind that his colonel was 
suddenly going mad. 

“ I want to tell you, if you are strong enough to 
bear it ; but I fear the shock it will occasion may 
injure you.” 

“ Injure me ! Shock ! Colonel, I don’t know in 
the least what you are driving at.” 

“ 1 will tell you then ; but promise me not to cry 
out or exclaim.” 

“ I promise. What the deuce is it ? ” 

Colonel Stuart bent down and whispered one short 
phrase — four little words, but their effect was magi- 
cal. Angus Torwood, forgetting his promise and 
his weakness, started up in bed with a cry that rang 
through the hospital ward. 

“ Hush ! ” exclaimed Colonel Stuart, grasping his 
arm. “ I warned you. Hot one word, not one sign 
to betray what I have told you. Lie down and listen 
to me.” 

With eyes that seemed starting from their sockets, 
Angus Torwood complied, and Colonel Stuart, bend- 
ing over him, spoke earnestly and rapidly. Mr. Mc- 
Pherson, coming up three minutes later, caught his 
last words. 

“ If you comply, I am certain of success. Do you 
think you are sufficiently master of yourself to do 
as I have told you ? ” 

“ I will try,” said Angus, in a bewildered sort of 


236 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

way ; “ but I hardly know whether I am walking 
or dreaming.” 

“^^either do I,” interrupted Mr. McPherson. 
“ Which of you two gentlemen yelled just now ? ” 

Colonel Stuart arose smiling, but with a glance 
of warning at Angus. 

“ Captain Torwood had an unexpected twinge, and 
cried out like a young lady* AVhat do you think of 
my hospital? ” 

“ Everything that is good. Have you quite re- 
covered yourself ? ” 

“ Quite, thank you. Are you ready to go ? ” 

“ I am altogether at your service.” 

Then, good-by. Captain Torwood, and good luck 
to you. You iviJl be as well as ever, if not better, 
before I get back.” 

They shook hands, the colonel in a manner full of 
deep but suppressed excitement ; the captain in a 
way hopelessly dazed and bewildered. 

Mr. McPherson looked from one to the other with 
a keen, suspicious glance, but followed the colonel 
out without saying anything. Once in the keen 
outer air, the young officer took off his cap, and let 
the cold wind lift his fair hair, Avith a long, long 
breath. In doing so he caught the minister’s eyes, 
and read his suspicions therein. 

“ Yes,” said Mr. McPherson, taking snuff ; “ some- 
thing has happened this morning; but you needn’t 
tell me if you don’t want to. It makes no differ- 
ence.” 

Colonel Stuart laughed, and held out his hand. 

“ Say good-by, Mr. McPherson. I don’t know as I 
shall see you again for a while. I am going away.” 


TIIK SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


237 


“ Good-by,” said Mr. McPherson, stoically. 

“ Don’t you want to know where I am going ? ” 

“ I^ot particularly.” 

“ Would you like to know my business ? ” 

“ Why should I ? It is nothing to me.” 

“ Yes, it is. Listen. I am going to find out 
about Edith Torwood’s murder ! ” 

The minister started back aghast. 

“ What!” 

‘‘ Ah ! I thought you would like to know. 
Here, Brown, bring up my horse.” 

The orderly led forward the colonel’s charger, and 
that officer vaulted lightly into the saddle. 

“ Farewell, Mr. McPherson,” he called, dashing 
off ; “ go and talk to Captain Torwood, and he will 
tell you a secret. Meantime, I’m off for Hew 
York ; the trail begins there.” 


238 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

ON THE TRACK. 

In a certain palace-like hotel on that street of 
palaces, the Fifth Avenue, New York City, there re- 
sided a lady, young, rich, and so beautiful that her 
fame had spread far and wide, from Dan even unto 
Beersheba. Artists, poets, authors, and vagabonds 
of that sort, went wild about her. There was not 
a pa])er or magazine you came across that you did 
not find “ Lines to Florence.” “ Sonnet to Floy,” 
“ To F. St. L.” “ To a Beautiful Blonde,” and so on 
to the end of the chapter. As to painters, she sat 
for Yenuses, Madonnas, Peris, Ilebes, and nearly 
every other good-looking goddess that ever was 
heard of, and carvers of marble had busts of her 
stuck all round their studies, and full length figures, 
in every attitude that artist’s brain ever conceived. 
For their pains, Mrs. St. Leon, the name of this be- 
wildering beauty, smiled on them sweetly out of 
her blue eyes, and smiled on all alike, let them 
praise her, go mad about her if they chose, and 
cared not a groat for one of them. All the women 
envied her ; her dresses, her jewels, her box at the 
opera, her carriage, her retinue of attendants, her 
splendid suite of rooms, her reunions, matinees, and 
receptions, were all alike the theme of their envy 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 239 

and slander. But Mrs. St. Leon was the fashion, 
and though the dear creatures flayed her alive, and 
tore her character to tatters behind backs, they 
were only too glad of a card to these same recep- 
tions of hers, and nearly smothered her with kisses 
every time they met. 

Of Mr. St. Leon, not much was known — he cer- 
tainly had never been seen in l^ew York with his 
charming wife, who had come among them as sud- 
denly as if she had dropped from the skies, and, by 
the title deed of beauty and wealth, took her place 
among them at once. There was a vague rumor of 
a Confederate of her name, who was high in rank 
in the Southern Army, but whether he was the 
proprietor of this Fifth Avenue belle, or not. Fifth 
avenue could not positively say. Mrs. St. Leon 
herself declined speaking on the subject, and only 
smiled in sublime suavity, and opened her soft vel- 
vety eyes a little wider when these rumors came 
floating to her ears. 

Mrs. Grunde says I am a deserted wife, and 
Miss McFlimsey says I am no better than I ought 
to be, does she?” Mrs. St. Leon lisped softly to 
her maid, who had just made the report. Dear 
me! tell my secretary to send them cards for my 
fancy-dress party, Hermine ; if they really think as 
they say, they won’t come, of course.” 

But Mrs. Grunde and Miss McFlimsey and every^ 
body else were only too glad to come, and on the 
night appointed for the fancy-dress party Mrs. St. 
Leon’s rooms were filled with the elite of the city, 
The glaring gas shone on all brilliance, gorgeous- 
ness, and splendor wealth could purchase, on women 


240 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


arraj^ed like queens, and on men arrayed in all the 
purple and fine linen men dare wear. 

Like an empress this lovely hostess received them, 
magnificently dressed, with diamonds running like 
rivers of light around her white throat, diamonds 
blazing on her rounded arms, on her taper fingers, 
dangling from her ears, and clasping back from tlie 
primrose face the redundance of golden curls shim- 
mering to her waist. She was dressed to personate 
a water nymph, and her robe was as thin, and 
filmy, and floating, and mast-like, as if it w^ere 
really sea spray. 

Every one wore some kind of fancy dress, and 
queens and flowers-girls, and angels and nuns, and 
knights and brigands, and sailors and Turks, twined 
and swayed this way and that, while the air was 
heavy with music and perfume. 

In a little shady alcove, hung with rose curtains, 
there was a sofa whereon sat a lady and gentle- 
man, discussing the moving panorama before them. 
The gentleman in the costume of a Highland chief 
was the most deeply smitten of the batch of poets 
who wrote the sonnets and things about the fair 
hostess, and the lady was Mrs. Grunde, who hated 
Mrs. St. Leon through sheer envy, more than she 
did any one else in the world. 

“ The little St. Leon is out in full feather this 
evening,’^ she was saying, looking through her glass. 
“ Why will she persist in wearing white when she 
is so unhappily inclined to embonpoint f ” 

“ She is lovelier than ever,’^ said the poet, follow- 
ing the snowy figure with enraptured eyes ; “ one 
>vould think she had sat for Owen Meredith’s poem ; 


THE -SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


241 


“ Tlie folds of her wine-dark violet dress 
Glows over the sofa, fall on fall, 

As she sits in the air of loveliness. 

With a smile for each and for all 

“ Half of her exquisite face in the shade 

Which o’er it the screen in her soft hand flings ; 

Through the gloom glows her hair in its odorous wave — 

In the firelight are sparkling her rings. 

“ She sits in the curtained, luxurious light 

Of that room, with its porcelain and pictures and flowers, 
When the dark days half done, and the snow-flakes white 
Passed the window in feathery showers. 

“ As she glides up the sunlight, you’d say she was made 
To loll back in a carriage all day with a smile, 

And at dark, on a sofa, to lean in tlie shade 
Of soft lamps, and be wooed for awhile. 

“ ’Tis so fair ! would my bite, if I bit it, draw blood? 

'"Will it cry if 7 hurt it, or scold if I kiss? 

Is it made with its beauty of wax or of wood ? 

Is it worth while to guess at all this ? ” 

“ 'No, indeed,” said Mrs. Grunde, as the poet paused ; 
“it is made of wax and insipidity — nothing else. 
Do you know,” leaning forward, confidentially, “ I 
have found out something about her.” 

“ No ! ” cried the poet, vividly interested. 
“What?” 

“ Who she is ? Her maiden name is Torwood — 
Miss Florence Torwood, third daughter of a certain 
Maryland judge, now dead; and she eloped nearly 
a year ago Avith this St. Leon she is married to. He 
is a Cuban, I believe, and there can be no doubt he 
is that Captain St. Leon Avho behaved so traitor- 

ouslv.” 

‘16 


'242 THE SISTERS OE TORWOOD. 

‘‘ How did you find all this out ? ” 

“ From my niece, who was a schoolmate of hers 
at Mademoiselle De Juponville’s seminary, here in 
Hew York. Madame Torwood, her stepmother, took 
her from school and brought her to Torwood Tower, 
the name of their place down in Maryland, and two 
or three weeks after she eloped with this St. Leon, 
who, by the way, Beatrice says, was engaged to an 
elder sister of hers at the time.” 

‘‘ St. Leon’s a lucky fellow to have the prettiest 
wife in America. I can understand his deserting 
his country, but I confess I cannot understand his 
desertion of la belle Florence.” 

‘‘Oh, it’s only a temporary desertion, and besides, 
after eight months of matrimony he may not be so 
badly in love with her as you are. I confess he has 
more faith in her than I would have ; for a woman 

who elopes once will ” 

“ Elope again — very true,” said a deep voice at 
the lady’s elbow ; and looking round she saw a tall 
man in the dress of a hermit, with his long white 
hair and beard, to which his straight, stalwart pro- 
portions and piercing bright eyes gave the lie 
direct. 

Mrs. Grunde looked at him keenly, but failed to 
recognize an acquaintance in the disguise. 

“ I am not aware, sir,” she said, superciliously, 
“ that I was addressing my remarks to you ! ” 

“Very true, and I beg a thousand pardons for 
the interruption ; but the truth and good sense of 
your remarks lay so palpably on the surface that I 
could not help coinciding. May I ask if Mrs. St. Leon 
has left the room ? ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 243 

“ She has, sir,” said the poet, failing as well as his 
fair friend to recognize the speaker. She passed 
into yonder conservatory not two minutes a^o.” 

“ Alone?” 

“ Quite alone.” 

“ Thank you.” 

The hermit strode past, made his way through the 
crowd, while many an eye followed his imposing 
figure curiously, and disappeared within the conser- 
vatory. 

Mrs. Grunde looked at the poet curiously. 

“ Who on earth is that ? ” 

“ I haven’t the slightest idea. Ilis disguise is per- 
fect.” 

“ What can he want with Mrs. St. Leon ? What,” 
cried Mrs. Grunde, excitedly, “ what if it should be 
her husband ? ” 

“ My dear madam, what an idea ! ” 

“ He looks like a soldier, in spite of his disguise. 
I am certain he is no one I know, and I am equally 
certain I am acquainted with every one Mrs. St. Leon 
has invited. I tell you I believe it is her husband.” 

‘‘ He must be a bold fellow if it is ; but I fancy 
you are mistaken. Oh, excuse me ; there is your 
niece. Miss Beatrice, going to sing, and I must join 
her.” 

The poet went over to the piano, where a tall, 
stylish girl had just taken her seat, and Mrs. Grunde, 
possessed of the new idea which had seized her, made 
her way toward the conservatory. The air there 
was almost overpowering from the odor of rich ex- 
otics, and the place was dimly lighted by tiny colored 
lamps, sparkling like stars or fire-flies among the 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


244 

plants. So faint was the light that at first she could 
not be certain whether the rooms were empty or not; 
but at last, in a distant recess, amid a wilderness of 
flowers, her eye caught the shimmer of a filmy white 
skirt. 

Yery softly she approached. Of course so great 
a lady could not be guilty of the small vice of eaves- 
dropping ; but her duty to her country required her 
to listen, if it should really be St. Leon. Keeping 
in the shadow of some tall orange trees, she drew 
nearer, and, hidden herself, had a full view of the 
tableau before her. 

What was it she saw ? The stately hermit in the 
act of removing his false hair and beard, of throwing 
off his long serge cloak, and standing revealed in the 
lamplight, a young and distinguished-looking man, 
in the uniform of a colonel of the Federal Army. 
And little Mrs. St. Leon, the rich, the beautiful, the 
courted, the irresistible, was cowering on a sofa, her 
face buried in the cushions, all her lovely golden 
ringlets falling in the wildest disorder about her, in 
a position of crouching, abject terror, crying in a 
bitter voice of supplication : 

Oh, I never meant it ! 1 never meant it ! I never 
meant it ! Oh, Dr. Stuart, how cruel you are ! ” 

“ Confess ! ” said the man’s deep voice, in a tone 
pitiless as doom, “ or neither your youth, your beauty, 
nor your wealth shall save you. ‘ Justice, though the 
heavens fall ’ shall be my stern motto to the end. I 
know a great deal, and what I do not know I shall 
never rest until I find out — your share in it as well 
as the rest ! Speak ! ” 

Cowering lower and lower among the pillows, the 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 245 

frightened little beauty did speak, but it was only to 
cry, amid broken sobs : 

“Ob, what have I done ! what have I done ! what 
have I done ! ” 

“ What you never can repair, though you lived a 
thousand years, and spent every one of them in the 
effort ; but all the atonement in your power shall be 
wrung from you, whether you will or not. Your 
beauty has no power over me, for I know you, 
madam, and I tell you here, Mrs. St. Leon, the law 
shall force you to speak 

But still she only spoke to sob and wail : 

“ Oh, what shall I do ! what shall I do ! Oh, Dr. 
Stuart, have you no pity ! ’’ 

“ None for you. What pity had you for 'your 
murdered sister in the days gone by. The same meas- 
ure you measured out shall be returned to you ! 
Bise madam ; it is growing late, and I am in no 
mood for lingering here ! AYill you confess, or shall 
I startle this gay assembly of your aristocratic friends 
by bringing a couple of policemen into their midst? 
For the last time, Florence St. Leon, will you 
speak ? ” 

And Florence St. Leon, the fascinating, about 
whom half the young aristocrats of New York were 
going wild, whom poets sang, and artists painted, 
dropped down on her knees at the stern soldier’s 
feet, her golden hair falling off a face ghastly with 
mental terror, and held up her jeweled hands in 
frantic appeal. 

“ I will speak ! I will speak ! Oh, Dr. Stuart be 
merciful, and I will confess all ! ” 


246 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


CHAPTEK XXII. 

HUNTED DOWN. 

Mrs. St. Leon’s grand reunion was over. In 
the cold gray light of a chill spring morning, car- 
riage after carriage had rolled away from her stately 
portals, freighted with loads of sleepy loveliness, 
soiled kids, and crumbled satins. When the round 
red morning sun was rising over the city, and all 
the common folks of this world who are vulgar 
enough to Avork for a living were rising with it, 
Madame St. Leon’s guests were going to bed, jaded 
and worn out, after the night’s dancing and cham- 
pagne. 

All but one. In an upper chamber of a fashion- 
able hotel, fronting on Broadway, a gentleman was 
pacing up and down, his eyes fixed on the carpeL 
his face indicative of deep thought. An odd-looking 
robe of coarse gray serge lay on the back of a chair, 
and something like a smile broke over the dark 
gravity of his face wheneAW he chanced to glance 
that way. Pens, ink, and paper lay scattered about 
on an inlaid table near, and sitting down after a 
while he began to write a letter. 


Xew York, March 29. 

“ My Dear Angus : — I promised to write to you, 
didn’t I ? — and though I hate letter-Avriting, I sup- 
pose I am in for it, and must fulfil my promise, 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


247 


There never was such luck as mine ; everything is 
turning out beautifully, and I am beginning to think 
Foucbe himself was a poor detective compared with 
me.” 

“ Now for particulars ; I reached here yesterday 
afternoon, made certain inquiries, found out Mrs. 
St. Leon was to give a tea splash of unrivaled 
magnificence — I mean a fancy-dress party — in the 
evening, and determined to go. Nothing like strik- 
ing while the iron is hot, you know ; but the diffi- 
culty was to get admitted, for Madame St. Leon is 
decidedly select and exclusive on these occasions. 
However, in the vocabulary of great men, you are 
aware there is no such word as fail. 

“I came, I maneuvered, I succeeded. I went! 
It was the luckiest thing in the world it chanced to 
be a fancy-dress party, for my own mother would 
not have known me in my disguise. My good 
genius stood by me all through the evening. Mrs. 
St. Leon sought a moment’s solitude and repose in 
the quiet of a deserted conservatory — I followed 
her. The plants in vases, three feet high, formed a 
sort of primeval forest on a small scale, the lights 
were dim, the dance music subdued by distance, and 
with scenery, and footliglits, and with everything 
charmingly suitable, I stood before her with tragic 
suddenness, threw off my disguise, struck an atti- 
tude, and stared ! She st.ared, too, poor little golden- 
haired sinner ; much as Macbeth does at the ghost 
of Banquo, in speechless horror. Her first impulse, 
woman-like, was to scream. 

‘‘ I checked that — our play wanted no spectators. 
We both found our tongues after we got tired mak- 
ing eyes at each other, and a tolerable good use I 
made of mine. 

“ If ever pretty Mistress Florence was scared out 
of a year’s growth, old boy, it was last night. Nero, 
Herod, Henry the Eighth, were angels of kindness 
and clemency compared with me — tears, sobs. 


248 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

prayers, hysterics, wringing of hands, all the power- 
ful train of female artillery, was like blank shot — 
my heart was iron-clad — I was merciless ! It was 
the only way to fetch everything out, and every- 
thing did come out at last ; but I tell you, Torwood, 
it gave me a very odd feeling to see that girl kneel- 
ing at my feet, crying for mercy like a child, and 
still be relentless ! I don’t know which of us was 
the more rejoiced when the interview ended, and 
the play was played out. I dismissed her in peace 
at last, saw the tears wiped away from the blue 
eyes, the poor golden ringlets rearranged, and came 
here, feeling as I hope I shall never have occasion 
to feel again in my life. 

“My next move shall be for Torwoodtown. I 
start in half an hour, and don’t I anticipate a scene 
unmasking the little traitress there. Everything 
was as I anticipated — Florence was but the cat’s- 
paw— justice has not overtaken the monkey yet, 
but soon will now, and ‘ justice, though the heavens 
fall,’ has been my merciless motto in this search. 

“ As for you, I have only to repeat my last warn- 
ing — be careful ! betray nothing until the time 
comes. I know you will find the task a hard one, 
my dear fellow, but there is no help for it. How I 
should like to have seen McPherson when you told 
him all ! Didn’t he empty his snuff-box ? 

“ Half-past six, and the cars start in a quarter of 
an hour ! I’m off ! 

“ Ever yours, 

“ PAun Stuabt,” 

Military men understand dispatch. Half an hour 
after writing the last word the letter addressed to 
Captain Angus Torwood, Washington, was on its 
w^ay to its destination, and the writer, seated in the 
cars, was on the way to his, as fast as steam could 
bear him. Looking thoughtfully out of the window 


the sisters op torwood. 


249 

at the ever-changing panorama of nature, Colonel 
Stuart mused over the great change in his life that 
had taken place since that other day, nearly a year 
ago, when at his mother’s summons, he had left 
New York for the very place he was going to now, 
amused at Judge Torwood’s eccentric will, and cur- 
ious to see the four sisters. How all things had 
changed since then ! He had lived a romance him- 
self in that old house, as startling as any he had 
ever read, and now he was returning to finish the 
last chapter of “ Retribution.” He was no expected 
visitor ; no one at Torwood Towers ever looked to 
see him again — for his purpose so much the better. 
There had been a stormy scene one morning between 
its mistress and himself, in which he was very quiet, 
but hard as iron, obdurate as death ; and in which 
she had wept and pleaded, and humbled herself as 
no one would have believed Madame Torwood could 
have done. Then, for the first time, she had learned 
which of her stepdaughters her darling Paul had 
chosen, and mother and son had parted, never ex- 
pecting to meet again at Torwood Towers. 

“ How they will open their eyes ! ” the young 
colonel mused, smiling to himself. “ My poor 
mother, she will be glad to see me too, for I really 
believe she thinks me as near perfection as it is pos- 
sible for any one to be, and live. I was a little too 
hard, I fear, in that last interview — but that was a 
long time ago, and I know she is as ready to forget 
and forgive as myself. As for that other — but suffi- 
cient unto the day is the evil thereof ! ” 

In the dusky haze of a June twilight. Dr. Stuart 
had first come to Tor wood town — in the dusky haze 


250 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

of a cold, spring day, he landed in Torwoodtown 
again. Very quiet the little town looked, with its 
few dim street-lamps winking feebly in the gloom, 
the raw sea- wind blowing in your face, and the black 
waves cannonading dully on the shore. A leaden 
sky hung over all, and the sloppy unpaved street 
was ankle deep in spring mire. All dreary enough, 
but the heart makes its own sunshine, and Colonel 
Stuart whistled a tune as he splashed through it, 
and strode up to the Torwoodtown Hotel. Mr. Jinks, 
the hostler, lounging on the piazza with a select 
few of his friends, smoking clay pipes, opened his 
eyes at the gentleman’s approach. 

‘‘ I’m blest if here ain’t the young doctor as was 
here last summer, back again ! I heard he ’listed 
and got made a major-gineral, or suthin’ about the 
size o’ that. What’s he back after, I should like to 
know ? ” 

Colonel Stuart being on foot, and Mr. Jinks’ 
service not being required, he did not seem likely to 
know ; but he and the loungers saw him stroll into 
the office, take up a paper, and order supper. 
“ And,” said Colonel Stuart, lying back in an easy 
position to read, “ I shall want a fast horse imniedi- 
{itely after. You need not prepare a room for me. 
I shall not sleep here to-night.” 

It was quite dark before the colonel got through 
with his supper, and throwing a large riding-cloak 
over his shoulders, he mounted the horse Mr. Jinks 
was holding in readiness. Pitch-dark, and a wintry 
night, without moon or stars, and a miserable driz- 
zle, that was half-snow and half-rain, piercing sharp 
through everything. 


THE SISTERS OE TORWOOD. 2^1 

“ A heavenly gallop I am likely to have of it,” he 
muttered, gathering up the reins. “ Lucky for me I 
know the confounded road so well. There, my good 
fellow, give him his head — that will do, thank you.” 

Horse and rider sped away through the darkness 
like specters, on over the black, forsaken road, with 
the black and lonesome sea booming like distant 
thunder, the black and ghastly woods around him, 
and the black and wrathful night sky lowering 
over all. A lonely night ride, in which any chance 
passer-by might have taken him for the Black 
Horseman of the Hartz Mountains — a dismal ride, 
cold and comfortless, his horse stumbling over rocks 
and slipping in the greasy mire ; but the jmung 
officer thought neither of rain, nor cold, nor loneli- 
ness. The purpose that brought him filled his mind, 
to the exclusion of all things else. 

Looming up, a black and goblin shape in the gloom, 
Tor wood Towers rose before him at last. Walking 
his horse into the courtyard, he dismounted, and 
led him toward the stable himself. Ho one was 
visible — no sound of life came from the lonely old 
house. The three lights that always burned, illumi- 
nated it — one in the entrance hall, one from the 
great kitchen, and the third from the drawing-room 
window. He smiled a grave smile as he watched 
this last. 

“ What are they doing, I wonder ? ” he thought, 
“ my lady. Miss Lucy, and wild Madge. How little 
they think their loving son and step-brother is here 
to pay his respects. Sleep in peace to-night, Lucy 
Torwood ; to-morrow night you may not find it so 
easy, for the hour of retribution has come ! ” 


252 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

He did not enter the house. Having seen his 
horse all right, he started off with his long strides 
tlirough the dark and dismal shrubbery, striking into 
the lonely meadow that brought him to the cedar 
woods. Along that forsaken path, in the black 
heart of the woods, another figure had flitted one 
July night to the solitary hut of the fortune-teller. 
To that very hut Colonel Stuart was walking now, 
and its red beacon light flamed out across his path- 
way, at last. Like the other visitor, he paused at 
the broken window to reconnoiter ; like her he saw 
the wretched interior, illuminated by a roaring wood 
fire, the overgrown cat blinking in one chimney 
corner, and the dark sibyl on a low stool in the 
other, her hands clasping her knees, her shining 
black eyes brooding on the fire. An authoritative 
knock at the door brought her from her musings. 

“ Who is there ? ” she demanded, approaching. 

“ A friend.” 

“ What do you want ? ” 

“ A little fortune-telling. Open the door, will 
you ? ” 

Huldah, used to nocturnal callers, threw back the 
door, and a tall man, in a long cloak, came in, and 
shook the mud and rain off his boots. 

‘‘ A delightful night for pedestrians, Huldah, is it 
not ? I shall muddy your floor ; but you’ll excuse 
me, won’t you ? ” 

He crossed over, took a seat, and stretched out his 
splashed boots to the drying influence of the blaze. 
Huldah stood looking at him without a word. 

“ It’s a lucky thing for you, Huldah, wood is so 
plentiful here, or you would wake up some morning 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 253 

and find yourself as stiff as Lot’s wife ; but perhaps 
you never heard of the lady ? Won’t you be seated ? 
and don’t stare so ; it is not polite.” 

“What brings Dr. Stuart here?” Huldah asked, 
in her deep tones, approaching the fire as she 
spoke. 

“ I told you before, did I not ? A little fortune- 
telling. I have great faith in you, Huldah; and 
have taken a journey from Hew York on purpose to 
see you.” 

“ From Hew York ! I thought ” 

“ You thought,” her visitor struck in, as she came 
to a full stop, “ I was down South in Dixie, fighting 
for glory, and so on. Oh, no; I’ve been in Hew 
York, and while there called on a pretty little 
friend of ours. You know her — Mrs. St. Leon. Do 
sit down ; it makes me uncomfortable to see you 
standing up there like a grenadier on guard.” 

Huldah’s stool was behind her ; she drew it up, 
and sat down, keeping her shining black eyes fixed 
on her visitor, as if fascinated, her dark, gipsy face 
looking Aveird and uncanny enough in the lurid fire- 
light. 

“That’s right. Hoav Ave can talk comfortably, 
and 1 have a great deal to say to you, Huldah. Can 
you guess Avhat it is about ? ” 

“ I don’t want to guess.” 

“ Ho, I should think not. W ell, I am going to be very 
frank, and saA^e you the trouble. I told you, as T 
said, I wanted a little fortune-telling ; but I am 
going to reverse the Avay you usually do that sort 
of thing, and instead of you telling me mine, I in- 
tend to tell you yours,” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


254 

Huldah sat immovable, her spectral black eyes 
intently fixed on his face. Colonel Stuart leaned 
towards her, and lowered his voice : 

“I can predict your whole future in two words — 
a halter ! ” 

Iluldah never moved a muscle. 

‘‘ If the halter had its due, my good Iluldah, jmu 
know I should have no companion in this hut. Do 
you understand me ? Do you know that they hang 
people for murder in these United States ? You 
may as well speak, Iluldah ; I shall find means to 
make you presently.” 

“ What is the use of speaking ? ” exclaimed the 
mulatto woman impatiently, “ when I don’t know 
what you are talking about.” 

Bah ! I understand all that ! Every criminal 
pleads not guilty when placed in the dock ; but 
murders are committed, and men, and women, some- 
times, Iluldah, are hung for them. You don’t un- 
derstand me, eh? Ueither could I understand at 
first why you murdered Edith Torwood ! ” 

Iluldah sat still like a dark efiigy in stone, un- 
moved. 

‘‘ I never murdered Edith Torwood,” she compos- 
edly said. 

“ Of course that is your answer, but I happen to 
have proofs. Do you comprehend what I mean 
when I say I saw Mrs. St. Leon in Uew York ? ” 

‘‘Yes, I understand plain English.” 

“ I saw Florence St. Leon, then, my good Huldah, 
and listen. She has told me all ! All ! you under- 
stand — ALL ! 

The stone face was changeless in its calm, 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 255, 

I know everything from first to last — the whole 
dark and shameful story. Not one event that hap- 
pened from the night Lucy Torwood, your foster 
child, sought you out, in spite of storm and dark- 
ness, until that July evening when the atrocious 
deed was done, is hidden from me. What do you 
think of that ? ” 

She neither moved nor spoke. The black eyes 
still glared upon him ; the brown face was of cast- 
iron. 

‘‘ Still dumb ! Well, I can go further back yet — 
back to the time before the murdered girl ever came 
here, when Lucy Torwood, your nursling, sent you 
to Cuba to see what she was like beforehand. You 
performed your mission well — you are a clever 
woman. Huldah, you dogged her night and day ; 
you haunted her like an evil shadow everywhere ; 
you frightened her so that she was glad to leave her 
island home and come here, simply to escape you. 
She did not escape ; the evening after her arrival 
you started up before her at the gate of Torwood 
Towers. I did not know then why she shrieked 
and nearly fainted at the sight ; she had reason to, 
had she not ? ” 

Only that gorgon-like start for an answer. Colo- 
nel Stuart, returning it with compound interest, 
kept on. 

“ It was not very wise of you and Miss Lucy to 
trust Florence with your secrets and motives ; but 
perhaps you could not help it. It was quite a well- 
laid plan, I must allow, and you played ghost uncom- 
monly well in the shrubbery, too. There was a 
great tragic actress lost in you, Huldah.” 


256 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

He paused to stroke the cat blinking at his feet. 
The cat’s mistress took an easier position on her 
stool, and stared steadfastly on. 

“You and your nursling laid your plans cleverly 
enough that night on which she sought you out 
here; but there was a Scotch poet once who re- 
marked, with a great deal of good sense and bad 
English, that ‘ the best laid schemes of mice and men 
gang aft agley.’ It was all laid out beautifully ; 
you and Lucy understood the haughty nature of 
Edith, the susceptible one of Florence, and the 
hoidenish carelessness of Madge, and were sure of 
success. Miss Lucy knew the will of her father as' 
pat as her prayers, and had made up her mind to be 
Lady of Torwood Towers. Edith would despise my 
mother’s son, of course, and would be no rival ; Flor- 
ence would be captivated by the handsome face of 
Mr. St. Leon. Madge was too young and too wild ; 
Lucy was to have ii all her own way, be my wife, 
and heiress of her father’s wealth. Wasn’t that the 
way of it, Huldah ? Do speak, won’t you ? It is 
rather trying to leave all the talking to me.” 

“You do it so well it would be a pity to interrupt 
you,” Huldah said, finding voice at last. “ Did Mrs. 
St. Leon tell you all this 'i ” 

“ Hever mind who told me ; you know it is true ! 
Between you and Miss Torwood you made the 
match you intended ; but you found that, after all, 
you were likely to be balked. You saw that Edith, 
not Lucy, was likely, after all, to be the mistress of 
Torwood, and, stopping at nothing, you — are you 
listening, Huldah? — you murdered her! ” 

Huldah never flinched under his stern eyes. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 257 

‘‘ IS"©, I did not. Edith Torwood is not murdered, 
and you know it ! ” 

‘‘Where is she, then ?” 

“ You need not ask : you know better than I 
do ! ” 

“ You own the truth of all I have said ?” 

“ I own nothing but this — that if you have come 
all the way from New York, thinking to frighten 
me, you have made the greatest mistake of your 
life. Edith Torwood is not murdered, and you 
know it well. If you have finished what you have 
to say you had better go home.” 

“Yery hospitable of you; but I have not quite 
finished yet. The evening on which Edith Torwood 
was last seen alive you came behind her as she sat 
on the beach. Oh, you need not speak — I know it 
all ; you lifted her in your strong arms, stifled her 
cries in a shawl, and bore her off. Since that time 
nothing has been heard of her, and I have come to 
you to-night to demand a full account of what fol- 
lowed.” 

“ Demand away ! I shall tell you nothing,” the 
mulatto woman said, with grim sullenness. 

“ You may as well — I shall surely learn it before 
another sun sets.” 

“ How ? ” 

“From Lucy Torwood! You may be made of 
granite, but she is not. I go there now, and I shall 
be as merciless with her' as she was with her sister. 
The pity you both showed Edith Torwood shall be 
shown to you, so look to yourselves.” 

He rose as he spoke, drew his cloak closely around 
him, drew his hat down over his brows, and prepared 
i; 


258 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

to face the raw and rainy night, Hulclah sitting all 
the while like a grim figure of stone. 

‘‘ Once again,” he said, pausing at the door, will 
you speak ? ” 

I have nothing to say.” 

Lucy Torwood will have, then ! Good-night to 
you and pleasant dreams ! ” 

He was gone, lost to view in the blackness, the 
moment the door closed. Through the forest path, 
through the meadows, through the shrubbery, back 
again at Torwood Towers in an incredibly short 
space of time. The window of his room opened on 
the piazza, like the rest ; he could gain admittance 
that way Avithout disturbing any one. Passing to- 
ward it, he Avent by another chamber AvindoAv from 
which a light shone — a windoAV from Avhich he had 
more than once Avatched a girlish figure proAvling in 
the grounds. A grim smile broke OA^er his face as 
he Avatched that glimmering star of light. 

“ Hunted doAvn, Lucy,” he was mentally saying, 
as he Avent on to his own room. “Sleep to-night, 
my dear girl, your time comes to-morrow.” 


The sisters of torwood. 


259 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

UNMASKED. 

The first morning sunbeams, glancing through the 
eastern windows of Torwood Towers, shone on Lucy 
Torwood, standing before the antique mirror in her 
chamber, smoothing her pretty fiaxen hair. Perhaps 
it was the deep mourning she wore, perhaps it was 
the altered expression of face, but she seemed to 
have grown ten years older in scarcely that number 
of months. The delicate rose-bloom that had made 
her so fresh and pretty, had all departed with the 
winter’s sun ; the oval cheeks had two deep hollows, 
there were conspicuous lines seaming the once satin- 
smooth forehead and the delicate mouth. But the 
eyes — those pretty soft blue eyes — had changed more 
than all. Xot in color, of course ; the spring sky, 
in which the sun shone so brilliantly this genial 
morning, was not clearer nor bluer ; but all their 
gentle quietude, all their peaceful tranquillity was 
gone. Wild, startled, restless, they flitted from ob- 
ject to object with a strange, fluttering glance of 
affright, never resting long anywhere, always watch- 
ful, always waiting, always on the alert. Her black 
dress fitting her slight figure to perfection, her spot- 
less collar and cuffs, her hair shining like pale gold, 
she looked very good and pretty still, but not as 
Lucy Torwood used to look. Something had 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD* 


260 

changed her, and not for the better. People said 
her sister’s dreadful and mysterious disappearance 
had broken her heart, and what everybody says, 
you know, must be true. 

On the bed, her short black hair all tossed and 
disordered, her cheeks flushed with youth and health- 
ful sleep, her gipsy face resting on her arm, lay 
Madge, fast asleep. 

As Lucy finished her toilet and turned to leave 
the room, she stood for an instant by the bedside, 
looking down at the sleeping face. Startlingly like 
her lost sister’s in its repose, that wild, dark face 
was ; too restless and changeful, in her waking 
hours, for the resemblance to strike you ; but in 
sleep, save for the bright bloom of color, you might 
have fancied Edith lay before you. 

“ How like ! how like ! ” Lucy said, low, to her- 
self, her lips trembling ; “ and she grows more like 
her every day. Madge’s face haunts me like the 
ghost of the dead now ! ” 

Madge, as if conscious, even in slumber, of her 
sister’s steady gaze, moved uneasily, and murmured 
something as she turned on her pillow and slowly 
opened her black eyes. 

“ Are you there, Lucy ? ” she asked, raising her- 
self on her elbow, with a yawn. “ What’s the morn- 
ing like ? ” 

But Lucy was gone down-stairs and into the 
drawing-room, throwing open windows and doors 
to the fresh sea breeze. 

Everything in that room was unchanged ; the old 
organ kept its place still, though the fingers that 
had once evoked such melody from its yellow keys 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


261 


were perhaps moldering into dust; the canaries 
sang in their cages, and the flower-stands filled the 
windows ; Madge’s straw hat lay in one corner, her 
mantle in another; the piano stood open, as she 
had left it last night ; Madame Tor wood’s chair 
stood in state in its place in the “ ingle nook,” and 
Judge Tor wood, grim and awful in his judicial 
ermine, stared on all from above the mantle. 

Lucy, standing beside the piano, looking out at 
the shining sea, let her fingers stray over the keys, 
and began, very softly, and half-unconsciously, to 
sing: 

“ And the stately ships go on 
To the haven under the hill ; 

And, oh, for the touch of a vanished hand, 

And the sound of a voice that is still ! 

“ Break, break, break. 

At the foot of thy crags, oh, sea ! 

But the tender grace of a day that is dead 
Will never come back to me ! ” 

She stopped as suddenly as she had begun ; some- 
thing seemed to rise in her throat and choke her. 
She stopped singing, to go out and attend to her 
housekeeping duties ; but the instant she turned to 
the door a shrill cry broke from her, and she bounded 
back as if she had seen a ghost. 

Standing in the doorway, with folded arms, not 
unlike a tall, dark ghost. Colonel Stuart stood, as 
unexpected as if he had risen out of the ground. 

‘‘ Good morning. Miss Tor wood,” he said, advanc- 
ing as composedly as if they had only parted nine 
hours instead of nine months before. “ I have 
startled you, I am afraid.” 


262 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


He might well say so. She was standing, holding 
by the piano with her left hand, while her right was 
pressed over her heart. Her parted lips told how it 
was throbbing ; her face, pale before, had become 
perfectly colorless ; and her eyes, those startled eyes, 
had dilated to twice their natural size. 

“ I have come upon you too suddenly,’’ he said, 
advancing, and really a little alarmed. You look 
ill ; had you not better sit down ? ” 

She took him at his word, sinking into a chair be- 
side the window, her hand still over her trobbing 
heart. 

It is nothing. I am very foolish ; but I have 
grown so nervous of late, the least thing startles me. 

And you — you appeared so suddenly so ” 

She stopped, looking at him, with the same strange 
glance of affright. 

“ So unexpectedly,” said Colonel Stuart, advanc- 
ing into the room ; “ yes, I know I am an unlooked 
for, very likely an unwelcome, guest. But 1 shall 
not trouble Tor wood Towers long with my presence. 
I leave at noon in the steamer.” 

‘‘ So soon ! It was scarcely worth your while to 
come at all.” 

“ I have come on business, not for pleasure. Yery 
disagreeable business. Miss Tor wood ; very painful 
to me, very painful to others, but unavoidable. 
That business is with youP 
‘‘With me! ” the pale lips faltered. 

“ With you, Miss Torwood,” Colonel Stuart reiter- 
ated, fixing his strong blue eyes with a powerful 
glance on the shrinking face ; “ and I think di- 
vine beforehand to what it relates.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 263 

She tried to look him in the face, and deny, but 
she could not. The blue eyes, that could be so 
kindly and genial, were terribly stern and relentless 
now. She dared not lie in this truthful, searching 
light, and the shrinking face turned to the window, 
and the frightened eyes averted themselves steadily 
from that moment. 

lie drew a chair up near to where she sat, and 
leaned forward, speaking low, and never taking his 
eyes off her, though he could not see her face. ‘ 

“ Where is my mother ? ” he asked. 

‘‘ In her room,” Lucy answered, in a voice so 
tremulous that the words were scarcely intelligible. 

‘‘ And Madge ? ” 

A shout outside answered — Madge was coming 
down-stairs, calling to Lucy as she came. 

‘‘Good! We can talk Avithout fear of interrup- 
tion Miss Tor wood, I have a story to tell you — a 
somewhat lengthy one, but I think you will find it 
interesting.” 

«I — I am busy — I have so much to attend to 
mornings,” faltered the frightfidly tremulous voice. 

“ Pardon me, too, if I tell you that you must 
wait, for the story I have to tell is even more 
important than your housekeeping duties. It takes 
me some time back — let me see, over twenty-four 
years ago, perhaps twenty-five, when a certain young 
judge in this country married a rich heiress, who 
brought him not only a fortune in money, but a 
valuable estate, servants, etc. Among these servants 
was a mulatto girl named Huldah— -perhaps you 
may have heard it before; an uncommonly intel- 
ligent girl, able to read and write, and trusted more 


264 the sisters of torwood. 

as a friend than a slave by her mistress. In return, 
Huldah idolized this mistress, would have gone 
through fire and water to serve her, and the idolatry 
extended to her mistress’ child. From her very 
birth, Huldah doted on this child, she became little 
Lucy’s nurse — they named the child Lucy, Miss Tor- 
wood, and her own mother could not have loved her 
better than this slave foster-mother did. But there 
soon came changes; the real mother died, and a 
very short time afterw^ard the bereaved husband 
brought home a new wife. 

‘‘ The first wife’s family estate was sold, with it 
the servants, to raise money, for the judge, it seems, 
was an extravagant man, and the young bride had 
expensive tastes. Huldah went with the rest; I 
have no doubt she made a terrible scene before leav- 
ing, for she was a woman of violent temper ; but 
the judge was a stern man — his word was law, and 
she had to go. 

‘‘ You may know how deeply she felt it when I 
tell you the shock turned her brain. Huldah went 
mad, and Avith her madness came its cunning. She 
managed to make her escape not long afterward, 
and for many years Avent Avandering about the 
country, finding food and shelter as best she might. 
After many years she came back to her native place ; 
some of the negroes who had knoAAm her in other 
days built her a rude hut in the Avoods, and Huldah 
took to fortune-telling for a living. 

“ She looked witch-like enough to be able to 
predict the future, and found plenty of believers to 
come stealthily after nightfall to the lonesome hut 
in the black heart of the cedar Avoods. Delicate 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 26 ^ 

young ladies, Miss Tor wood, have gone there before 
now, stealing through the darkness, when they 
dared not face the light to plot evil Avith the dark 
seeress. Perhaps I tire you with a long preamble 
about a wretched escaped slave and vagrant lunatic, 
but it is necessary, that you may the better under- 
stand my story.” 

He tried to see her face, but he could not. He 
only saAV her desperately clutching the window-sill 
Avith one hand in a desperate clutch, but for all that 
she shook like one in an ague. Morally and physi- 
cally, Lucy TorAvood Avas a coAvard. Colonel Stuart 
had some one very different from Huldah Black to 
deal Avith now. He Avent on after a moment’s 
pause, during Avhich the beating of the girl’s fright- 
ened heart Avas plainly audible. 

“ The judge’s second Avife shared the fate of his 
first, leaving three daughters, Edith, Florence and 
Madge — familiar names. Miss TorAvood. Edith Avas 
born in Cuba, and resided there Avith a maternal 
aunt. Florence was sent to school, and the young- 
est and eldest sister remained at home. 

‘‘ The judge in the fullness of time, took a third 
wife and went abroad with her. Abroad he died, 
leaving a singular Avill, every Avord of Avhich Avas 
prompted, I have no doubt, by the third Avife, under 
whose influence he Avas as plastic as Avax. It be- 
queathed the larger half of his Avealth and the family 
homestead to whichever of his four daughters should 
become the bride of this third Avife’s son. Very ro- 
mantic very like something in a novel, but very 
unfair, do you not think so. Miss Torwood ? ” 

He might as Avell have spoken to the Avindow, out 


266 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

of which she was looking, for all the signs she made 
of hearing him. 

“ Your namesake, the Lucy I speak of, thought so, 
at all events ; and most bitterly resented the wrong 
that had been done her. She was rather a strange 
girl, this Lucy — outwardly the quietest and gentlest 
of creatures, inwardly crafty, designing, ambitious, 
longing for wealth, and the power wealth gives, and 
quite unscrupulous what means she took to gain her 
ends, so that these means were not found out. By 
stealth she discovered and read the will, or rather a 
copy of it forwarded by her father’s widow from 
Italy, and from that time her mind was made up to 
be the fortunate sister, and inherit her father’s 
wealth. Her sisters Florence and Madge, as rivals, 
she did not particularly fear, but of Edith she knew 
nothing. 

“ In order to find out what kind of a person Edith 
was, she sent Iluldah, the mulatto I spoke of, Miss 
Torwood, all the way to Cuba, with full directions 
to discover her sister. Huldah fulfilled her mission 
well, and returned with full particulars about the 
time the widow also came. Her son and the two 
absent sisters were sent for, and the first act of the 
play began.” 

Colonel Stuart stopped. There had been a gasp, 
a fluttering movement of one hand, a partial turn- 
ing of the head, and he thought she was going to 
speak. She did not, however, and he resumed : 

‘‘ Huldah and her foster child met one dark night 
in the hut in the woods, and together concocted a 
plot, a dark and shameful plot. Miss Torwood, 
though it broke her sister's heart. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 267 

‘‘Edith was engaged, as they both knew, to a 
gentleman more remarkable for his good looks than 
his steadfast principles or feelings of honor. Flor- 
ence was a beauty and a flirt, and it was settled 
they were to be brought together in every possible 
way and married. That would be one sister out of 
the way — Edith, imperious and high-minded, detested 
her step-mother’s son ; therefore was not likely 
to be his wife — Madge would never suit him — Lucy 
was perfection, or made the world believe she was 
— what more natural than that the lucky man should 
grasp at such an angel bride, with so many dollars 
thrown in. 

“ They could calculate shrewdly. Miss Torwood, 
but tliey reckoned Avithout their host after all. 
When Ave see a day too sunshiny Ave suspect it Avill 
end in storm ; anything too sweet, it is Avell knoAvn, 
is never wholesome ; had Lucy been a little less 
angelic she might have suited better, but like many 
other actresses, overplayed the part. From the first 
he suspected her, and suspicions soon became certain- 
ty — there were nocturnal meetings in the grounds 
Avith mysterious personages, and nocturnal intervicAvs 
seldom are for any good ; there Avere plots and in- 
trigues enough for a three-volume novel, and he, at 
Avhom she Avas aiming, saAV through, and understood 
it all. It pleased him, however, to play the uncon- 
scious for a time, and the pretty actress flattered 
herself that he, as Avell as the rest of the world, 
took the tinsel for gold. 

“ All her schemes seemed to be succeeding to her 
heart’s content — the match she had made ended in 
every Avay to her contentment — the only rival she 


268 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


dreaded Was out of the lists, the field seemed clear to 
herself, when lo ! in the very hour of triumph, 
a rival seemed rising in the sister she had feared least. 

‘‘ I suppose it made her desperate to see the gold- 
en prize, for which she had plotted and schemed so 
long, slipping through her fingers just as it seemed 
her own, and a desperate woman will stoop to des- 
perate deeds. 

“ Mysteriously Edith disappeared — disappeared as 
suddenly and unaccountably as if the ground had 
opened and swallowed her. All search since has 
been in vain, but I have never despaired of find- 
ing out what became of her. To you, Lucy Tor- 
Avood, I now come — the play in which you acted so 
cleverly is played out — you may drop the mask you 
have used so long and tell the truth ! Lucy Tor- 
Avood, Avhat have you done with your sister ? ” 

She did not speak. For some time before her 
face had dropped on the arm resting on the AvindoAv, 
and she had neA^er moved since. 

“ Miss Torwood,” he reiterated, still more sternly, 

I command you to speak. Is your sister Edith 
living or dead ? ” 

Still no reply, no motion that she even heard him. 
A little startled, he laid his hand on her shoulder to 
rouse her ; it had no effect. Still more alarmed, he 
lifted her face, and his OAvn turned Avhite as he saAv 
it. It dropped again, heavily — sitting there she 
had fainted entirely away. 

Hoav long she had been unconscious he could not 
tell, probably from the time her head had fallen on 
her arm. In considerable consternation he went 
out to the hall in search of help, and encountered 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


269 


Kosie, the housemaid, armed with broom and dust- 
pan. At sight of the gentleman she dropped both 
and jumped back as if she had seen a ghost, her 
scream of surprise ringing through the hall. 

“ Don’t make such a row Kosie ; it’s only I. Go 
get some cold water and sal volatile, and fetch them 
in here. Miss Lucy has fainted.” 

“ Good Lord sir! fainted ! ” 

“ Yes ; get the things I tell you at once, and attend 
to her. Where is Madame Torwood ? ” 

“In her room sir. Shall I ” 

“ No, never mind 1 Attend to Miss Lucy first, 
and when she is restored you may tell your mistress 
I am here, and wish to see her as speedily as possible. 
The cold water will bring Miss Lucy to, I think.” 


270 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD, 


CHAPTER XXIY. 

A CONFESSION. 

Colonel Stuart went out on the piazza, and 
leaned over the railing to catch the fresh morning 
breeze. The hoarse barking of dogs came to his ear 
from the shrubbery, and surmising who was there 
he went down. Two ugly little bull-dogs were fight- 
ing furiously, and Madge, in a black straw hat, stood 
near, urging them on. 

“ Go it. Lion ! At him. Tiger ! That’s the boy ! 
Good old Tiger ! You’ll beat him yet ! I knew you 
would.” 

‘^Good-morning, Madge,” said Colonel Stuart, 
shouting to be heard over the uproar. “ Charming 
employment I find you at this heavenly morning.” 

Madge faced round and at sight of the speaker her 
eyes opened to twice their usual size. 

“ Gracious me ! My stars ! Whoever would have 
thought it ! ” 

“ That’s a nice welcome, isn’t it, to one you have 
not seen for nearly a year ? W ill you shake hands 
and say you are glad to see me ? ” 

Madge held out her brown digits in greeting. 

“ Of course Pm glad to see you. I’d be glad to see 
my worst enemy now, for I have not seen a new face 
for the last three months, and I declare I’m fit to 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 27 1 

die of the blues. Where in the world did you, of all 
people, drop from ? ” 

From 'New York, the last place.” 

“ When did you come ? ” 

“ Last night. I got in Avithout disturbing any- 
body, through the Avindow.” 

“ Did you see any of the folks yet — Lucy or your 
mother ? ” 

‘‘ I have just left Miss Torwood. She has groAvn 
as thin as a shadoAV since I saAv her last. What is 
the cause ? ” 

Madge looked at him with gravely surprised eyes. 

“Do you need to ask? I think we have had 
enough trouble of late to make the whole of us 
shadows. I have no doubt I would be one myself, 
only, you see, I have such a powerful appetite. 
What were you doing in IN^ew York. 

“ I went to New York to make a genteel call on a 
fair friend of mine — Mrs. Florence St. Leon, by 
name.” 

Madge’s eyes fleAV open again. 

“ What ! call on Florence ! I don’t believe it.” 

“ Disbelieve it, then.” 

“ Did you really, though ? ” 

“ I really did. Would you have me be impolite 
enough to give her the cut direct ! ” 

“ I should feel tempted to give her a cut Avith my 
horscAvhip if she were near enough,” said Madge, 
savagely. “ Lion ! Tiger ! be still, you noisy brutes ! 
What had you to say to Mrs. St. Leon ? ” 

“ Oh, several things, that I didn’t think she cared 
about hearing. She is just as pretty as ever, and 
very popular in New York.” 


272 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

“ Is she ? Ah ! ” cried Madge, clawing the air vi- 
ciously with her fingers, “ how I wish she were with- 
in reach of my nails ; wouldn’t I lacerate her beauty 
for her ! Where’s he ? ” 

‘‘Captain St. Leon? Down South in Dixie. I 
live in the hope of meeting him some day, and spoil- 
ing his beauty for him. I say, Madge ! why don’t 
you ask after Lieutenant Moreen ? He’s quite well, 
though, at least as well as the poor fellow is ever 
likely to be in this world ! There, don’t blush ; he 
told me all about it.” 

“ Bother ! Where’s Angus Torwood ? ” 

“ At Washington, in the hospital — wounded, but 
not badly. Mr. McPherson was there, too, when I 
left.” 

“ I know it ; everybody’s left Torwoodtown ; and 

of all the dismal holes ” a despairing gesture 

finished the sentence. 

“ My poor Madge ! And how do you manage to 
exist in it at all ? ” 

“ Echo answers, how ? for I am sure I don’t know. 
One dreary day drags on after another, and I gape 
from morning till night, and I am at this present 
moment on the verge of melancholy madness. If 
you see a paragraph in the papers before long, 
headed, ‘ Melancoly Suicide in High Life ! ’ you may 
know that it refers to me without reading it. Tiger, 
if you don’t stop that noise this minute, you’ll come 
in for the best thrashing you have had in a month 
of Sundays ! ” 

“ Madge ! ” cried Colonel Stuart, speaking from a 
sudden impulse, “ you want a change. Come with 
me to Washington.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


273 


“ What to do there ? 

‘‘ Anything you like. Nurse the sick in the hos- 
pital. Lots of young ladies do it.” 

“ I should like it of all things, but, la ! what’s the 
use of talking ? I won’t be let ! ” 

“ Who’ll hinder ? ” 

“ Why, Lucy and your mother. ‘ It wouldn’t be 
proper, and it wouldn’t be this, that, and the other 
thing.’ Oh, I know ! ” 

‘‘You shall come if you wish it, and neither Lucy 
nor my mother will object. It depends on yourself 
— yes or no ? ” 

“Yes, to be sure. I’d go to Greenland for a 
change.” 

“ But I leave at noon in the steamer. Can you be 
ready in four or five hours ? ” 

“ In half the time, sir. I’m not a young lady of 
furbelows and flounces, I’d have you know. Well, 
Kosie, what do you want? ” 

“A letter for you, sir,” Kosie said, handing one to 
Colonel Stuart, “ from Miss Lucy.” 

Madge stared. 

“Never mind, Madge,” said he, leisurely opening 
it ; “ it’s no affair of yours, my dear ; so run off and 
begin packing.” 

Madge, not quite sure that it was not all a delight- 
ful dream, darted off, and Colonel Stuart broke the 
seal of the letter. Lucy Torwood’s delicate tracery 
was not quite so steady as usual, and the epistle be- 
gan abruptly enough : 

“ If Colonel Stuart has any pity, can feel any com- 
passion for so lost and fallen a wretch as I am, he 
18 


274 the sisters of torwood. 

will depart from Torwood Towers without forcing 
me to see him again. For the last nine months I 
have been waiting for what has come to-day. I am 
all that you say, a base intriguer, a miserable hypo- 
crite ; you cannot loathe and despise me more than 
I loathe and despise myself ; but I am no murderess. 
I was mad ; I know it now ; but as Heaven hears 
and will judge me, the worst I intended was to take 
Edith’s lover from her, and force her back to Cuba 
to her friends. 

‘‘ Her abduction was no work of mine. I knew 
nothing whatever of it ; I never dreamed of such a 
thing ; it was all the work of Huldah. I do not at- 
tempt to deny that I had plotted with Huldah ; but 
never for that — never, never ! 1 cannot deny either 

that from the first moment her loss was discovered I 
knew who her abductor was ; but I dared not speak, 
I knew she was not murdered. 

“ Huldah confessed all to me the next time we met, 
and owned she had planned it all out long before- 
hand with the secret craftiness of the partially in- 
sane. Some friends of hers — negroes, of course — liv- 
ing in a wretched hut on the seashore, near the out- 
skirts of Torwoodtown, agreed to take charge of 
her, and thither Huldah conveyed her in a donkey 
cart, that July night we missed her. The low fever 
burning in her veins before she left changed in the 
negro hut to most malignant typhus, and while you 
Avere searching for her over the country, she was 
lying there delirious. Heaven alone knows hoAv I 
felt ; but I had gone too far to recede. My coward 
heart Avould not let me speak. I feared you^ Colonel 
Stuart, and the first time I dared breathe freely Avas 
when you left the Towers. If Edith lived, my inten- 
tion Avas to have her conveyed back to Cuba ; if she 
died — then, the secret must ever remain untold. 
She did not die, as 1 am sure, in spite of your words 
this morning. You know she recovered, and — 
escaped. Hoav she did it, or where she Avent to, or 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. ^75 

what has become of her, I know not ; but I am cer- 
tain you do. 

Colonel Stuart, I have spoken the truth at last, 
Edith lives ; and if so lost a creature as I am dared 
thank God for anything, it would be for that. If 
you have any mercy, you will spare me the pain of 
a second interview. Some time, perhaps, I may 
kneel before Edith and ask her forgiveness, and her 
good-nature is so great she will grant it, I know. I 
have sinned, but I have also suffered. Even you 
Colonel Stuart, might feel for me a little, if you, 
knew how.” 

It ended as abruptly as it had begun. Colonel 
Stuart, refolding it with a very grave face, caught 
sight of Rosie, lingering still. 

“ Oh, I thought you had gone, Rosie. Do you 
want anything ? ” he asked. 

“ Yes, sir ; misses is awake now, and says would 
you please walk up to her room at once ? ” 

Colonel Stuart nodded, put Lucy’s letter in his 
pocket, and walked slowly back to the house. 

“ So far, so well,” he said to himself. “ Poor 
Lucy ! even old Rick is not as black as he’s painted. 
I’ve heard, and I believe Lucy really tells the truth 
at last. There’s Madge at the window, all ready, I 
see ; so now for a parting interview with my lady 
mother.” 


276 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

SISTER MARIE. 

A FOGGY day, ending in sleet anCi snow, though it 
was late in spring, was closing in evening gloom 
over Washington City. The lamps in the long dim 
aisles of the hospital wards were palely glimmering 
on the restless sufferers, tossing drearily on their 
feverish beds. They glimmered on the doctors going 
their evening rounds, and on the black-robed figures 
of the Sisters of Charity, flitting from couch to 
couch, ministering to the sick soldiers lying thereon. 

Kestless on his hot bed, listening to the wailing of 
the raw night wind, to the sleet lashing the win- 
dows, and to the moans of his sick comrades, a sol- 
dier lay near the end of the ward. Tossing first to 
one side and then to the other, in the impatient way 
peculiar to sick men, he looked at the feeble lamps 
overhead, at the passing physicians and nurses with 
fidgety impatience, and at last hailed one of the 
latter going by. 

“ Sister Marie ! ” 

A nun, slender of figure, youthful of face, turned 
at the call. Youthful of face, but startlingly color- 
less in the lamp-light, and lighted by a pair of lumi- 
nous dark eyes. Wonderful eyes they were, full of 
strange power and intensity, solemn, mystic, and 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 277 

melancholy. Every face, it is said, is either a his- 
tory or a prophecy — hers was a history — a history of 
suffering and endurance ; of conquered pride and re- 
bellious spirit ; of patience and waiting, calm wait- 
ing for the end. 

She turned now at the sound of her name, with 
her large, dark, mournful eyes fixed expectantly on 
the patient’s face. 

“ Do you want anything, Captain Torwood ? ” 
she asked, in a low, sweet voice, rendered most 
musical by a slight foreign accent. 

“ I want to know if there are no letters for me. 
It is time there were.” 

‘‘ There can be none, or you would have received it 
before now. You must learn to wait a little more 
patiently, or you will work yourself into a fever.” 

“ Hoav’s a fellow to help it?” grumbled Angus, 
‘‘stretched here like an overgrown baby from week’s 
end to week’s end, with nothing more exciting to 
happen than being stared at by visitors, or the com- 
ing of your gruel and beef-tea ! I’ll go mad if I’m 
kept here much longer.” 

A faint, moonlight sort of smile dawned on the 
pale face of Sister Marie. 

“ Patience, patience. Captain Torwood ! You 
must learn, as well as the rest of the world, the 
great lesson of life — endurance. You are only in 
the alphabet now.” 

“ I never Avant to get beyond it, then ! Confound 
the colonel ! Avhy doesn’t he Avrite ? I beg your 
pardon, sister — but he ought to Avrite ! ” 

“ Is Colonel Stuart your military correspondent ? ” 

“ Yes. You see, Sister Marie,” Angus said, ear- 


278 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

nestly, ‘‘ he has gone on most important business — 
nothing less than to investigate a most mysterious 
murder ! ” 

‘‘ Murder ! ’’ Sister Marie faintly echoed, recoiling 
at the dreadful word. 

“ A most mysterious and shocking murder. If 
you ever read the papers you must have seen it. 
The victim was a cousin of mine, Edith Torwood 
was her name, one of the noblest women that ever 
lived ; but neither her youth nor goodness could 
save her. She fell a victim to the jealousy and 
avarice of a demon in female form — her own ” 

He broke off suddenly. Sister Marie, standing 
with averted face, had made a sudden and passion- 
ate gesture with one hand. 

Hush, hush, hush ! How can you tell me of 
such things ? ” she said in a voice so agitated that 
he scarcely knew it. “ I don’t want to hear any- 
thing more about it. Is there anything you want 
before I go ? ” 

‘‘ A drink, if you please. I should not have told 
you the story had I thought it would shock you so ; 
but I imagined after spending three weeks here, 
you had grown accustomed to dreadful things ? ” 

Sister Marie, without looking at him, or replying, 
filled a glass with lemonade, and handed it to him. 

“ Is there anything else ? ” she asked. 

“ Nothing else, thank you ! Goodnight.” 

‘‘ Goodnight ! ” Sister Marie said, and with a 
queer look in his eyes Angus Torwood watched her 
gliding away, and disappearing — another shadow 
among the shadows. 

A long hall separated the hospital from that por- 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


279 

tion of the building occupied by the sisters. The 
pale young nun walked down the hall, and opening a 
door to the left, entered her own private apartment. 

Sister Marie knelt down, dropping her face into 
her wan white hands, and remaining so motionless 
you might have taken her for an ebony statue. So 
long she knelt that the stormy evening passed into 
stormier night, and when she rose at last, the pale 
lamp-light shone on a face wet with a hot rush of 
tears. 

Taking a seat at the window, she listened to the 
wind and rain. Mingled with the long and lament- 
able blasts came presently another sound — a carriage 
driving at a furious rate over the graveled drive. 
Directly after the door-bell rang loudly ; Sister 
Marie heard the portress trotting leisurely along to 
answer the summons, and then the sound of voices 
in the vestibule. One was a man’s voice, the deep 
masculine tones sounding oddly out of place in 
those monastic rooms. Visitors that stormy night ; 
but it was nothing to Sister Marie — she expected 
none — and so sat on, dreaming and listening. Sit- 
ting thus some one who opened the door suddenly 
found her, and the sister turning round, saw the 
portress. 

‘‘ You are wanted sister,” she said. “ There is a 
visitor for you.” 

Sister Marie rose with a startled look. 

‘‘ For me ? Are you sure ? ” 

“ It is Colonel Stuart. He is talking to Mother 
Frances now in the vestibule. It was she who sent 
me here for you. 

Sister Marie went out without a word, In the 


28 o 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


brightly lighted vestibule a tall figure in a wet over- 
coat stood, hat in hand, talking to Mother Frances, 
a pleasant-faced lady, of mature age. The parlor 
door standing open. Sister Marie caught a glimpse 
of a lady sitting therein, dressed in mourning ; and 
something about her even in that fleeting glimpse 
made her heart give a sudden bound. Colonel 
Stuart and the mother were conversing earnestly, 
but both turned at her approach. 

Happy to see vou again. Sister Marie,” the col- 
onel said, holding out his hand ; “ how are you and 
all your patients ? ” 

“ He has been asking for Captain Torwood,” 
Mother Frances said ; “ he is in your ward, is he 
not ? ” 

“ Yes, mother, and is nearly convalescent.” 

‘‘ You have found him a troublesome charge, ' I 
fancy,” Colonel Stuart said, smiling. 

Father an impatient one, but not otherwise trou- 
blesome. He expected a letter from you this even- 
ing, and seemed very much annoyed at not receiving 
it.” 

“ I have done better than write — I bring him all 
the news in person. I bring some to you also. 
Sister Marie.” 

Again Sister Marie’s face took that white, star- 
tled look. It reminded Colonel Stuart of Lucy Tor- 
Avood, standing that sunny spring morning bv the 
window in the dining-room of Torwood Towers. 
He looked at her Avith a keen glance as he spoke. 

Yes, I bring a friend ; a young lady v{ho is 
most anxious to see you. Are you strong enough 
to bear ^ shock J ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 281 

She turned from him to the mother, her hands 
clasped, her lips parted. 

‘‘ Oh, mother ” 

“ Go in, dear child,” the elder lady said, looking 
at her with smiling eyes ; fear nothing. JSTo one 
but your friends will come here.” 

‘‘ Is it — tell me, is it — ” Sister Marie began, hur- 
ried and agitated, but the colonel interfered. 

I have promised not to tell you anything. The 
young lady I bring knows how to speak for herself. 
Come ! ” 

He turned into the parlor. Sister Marie made no 
motion to follow him until the mother, still smiling 
encouragingly, took her by the hand and led her 
forward. In the blaze of the chandeliers sat a girl 
dressed in deep black, youthful and slender, with a 
pair of great black eyes flashing back the gas-light, 
and a jocky hat set on a profusion of black braids — 
for Miss Madge Torwood’s locks had grown of 
late. 

The moment Sister Marie entered she sprang up 
from her seat, made an impetuous rush at her, and 
caught her in her arms with a shrill scream of 
“ Edith ! ” 


282 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


CHAPTEE XXYI. 

EESUKQAM ! 

Yes, Edith ! Not dead, not lying with the fathom- 
less sea for her winding-sheet, but sitting here in the 
lamp-light, with Madge clinging to her, crying, and 
laughing, and talking, all together, with showers 
between. Pale and shadowy, certainly, the dark, 
thin, face wasted by sickness and suffering, the 
old haughty look gone, the old haughty step and 
bearing altered, but the great, dark, solemn eyes 
unchanged, the old rare smile that was w^ont to light 
up the proud face so brightly, bright as ever still. 
Yes, Edith, risen again. 

It was all over, the first agitated meeting. 
Questions had been asked and answered, no end of 
kissing and ecstatic hugging on Madge’s part, and 
now Edith was sitting down, white and agitated, 
but trying hard to be calm ; and Madge was kneel- 
ing before her, her arms round her waist, her black 
eyes intently gazing at the Creole face, asking a 
shower of breathless questions. Colonel Stuart 
stood, as he had been standing ever since their en- 
trance, by the window, his back to them, absorbed 
seemingly in looking at the black, blind night, and 
listening to the wild spring storm. They were 
alone together, for the mother had gone. 

‘‘ And so you are not dead in spite of everybody 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 283 

saying so, and not a nun, though you wear their 
dress? Well, I never ! ” Madge was exclaiming for 
the dozenth time. ‘‘I do declare it’s the most 
wonderful affair I ever heard of — beats the ‘ Castle 
of Otranto,’ and the ‘ Mysteries of the Forest,’ all to 
sticks. You might have knocked me down with a 
feather when Colonel Stuart told me about it first. 
Begin at the beginning, like the author of the 
‘House that Jack built,’ and tell us all about it.” 

Edith smiled — the imperative tones reminded her 
so of the authoritative Madge of other days. 

“ What do you mean by ‘ all about it,’ ma chere f 
Do you not know all already ? ” 

“ No, nor half ! I know Huldah carried you off 
that night in a donkey cart to some old hut out- 
side of Torwoodtown, and that you were there crazy 
with brain fever. While we were going-distracted 
and raising the country generally in search of you. 
I tell you what, Edith, the war in Maryland was a 
small circumstance about that time compared with 
the hunt we had for your melancholy remains and 
assassinators ! How long were you with Huldah, 
anyway ? ” 

“ Over two, nearly three months. That I re- 
covered from that dreadful fever is in itself almost 
a miracle. The old negress that owned that hut 
was doctor and nurse herself — I never saw another 
creature while there, except Huldah. She was kind 
enough to me, too, after a fashion of her own, but I 
fancy was heartily tired of her charge long before 
she was rid of me.” 

“ What did they intend doing with you after you 
got well ? ” 


284 'the sisters of torwood. 

“ Send me back to Cuba. She who plotted it all 
knew me well enough to be sure I never would 
make the disgraceful story public.” 

MadgeV face suddenly lengthened. 

Of all the hypocrites — but then. I’d rather not 
mention her, for fear 1 might get excited. Didn’t 
you want to get back to Cuba ? ” 

‘‘ Sister mine,” said Edith, sorrowfully, ‘‘ to whom 
should I have gone ? My dear aunt is in heaven, 
and my beautiful Cuba no longer contains a home 
for me.” 

Madge administered a few consoling hugs and 
kisses. 

“ Poor, dear Edith ! So you ran away ? ” 

“ I did, when I was strong enough,” said Edith, 
smiling, “ which was not for many a weary day. 
I knew where I was. I knew everything, in fact, 
just as you know it now, and I formed my own 
plans, and quietly bided my time.” 

“ Was there no way in which you could have sent 
a message to Torwood Towers ? ” asked Colonel 
Stuart, turning his grave face from the window, and 
speaking for the first time. “ You must have known 
among the rest how terribly anxious your friends 
would be at your loss.” 

Edith’s luminous gray eyes lifted themselves stead- 
ily to his face. 

My friends ! Madame Torwood hated me ; Lucy 
Torwood for months had been plotting my ruin ; 
Florence Torwood eloped with my betrothed hus- 
band ; Dr. Stuart seemed only waiting to rob me of 
my birthright ; Madge Torwood,” smiling down at 
Madge’s sober, uplifted face, “ I judged to be a reck. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 285 

less romp, with no love or care for anything earthly 
but her dogs and horses. Who were my friends at 
Torwood Towers?” 

“ Now, if there ever was heard so ungrateful a 
speech ! ” shrilly broke out Madge. “ Weren’t we 
on the verge of killing you with kindness that time 
before you disappeared, when you went dawdling 
about, day in and day out, neither sick nor well, 
but just as aggravating as ever you could be ? 

“ Didn’t Madame Torwood call you ‘my dear,’ 
three distinct times in my own hearing? didn’t Lucy 
prepare oceans of beef-tea, and chicken broth, and 
calves’ feet jelly, which you wouldn’t eat ? and didn’t 
I make a martyr of myself every day of my life, 
devouring them for you. 

“Didn’t Dr. Stuart launch into the wildest ex- 
travagance in the way of books and magazines, and 
spend all his spare change buying you flowers and 
fruit, and various things of that sort ? Then, as for 
Florence, you owe her more than anybody else, for 
if ever you came to luck in your life, Edith Tor- 
wood, it was getting rid of that mean little dan- 
dified Jackeymo St. Leon. Friends indeed ! that 
just shows how much gratitude there is in this 
world ! ” 

Madge’s eloquence, when it broke forth, was like 
a mountain torrent, resistless. Both Edith and 
Colonel Stuart broke into a smile. 

“ I am not so ungrateful as you think. Miss Madge,” 
Edith said, caressing the indignant face. “ I remem- 
ber well how kind you all were in those days ; but 
nothing could have tempted me back to Torwood 
Towers. I knew I was thought to be dead. I knew 


286 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


diligent search was being made for me, but my whole 
thought was how to evade it, to escape from you 
all. 

“In the dead of night, when my black nurse lay 
buried in deepest sleep, I made my escape, found my 
Avay into the town, and next morning at daylight 
was ringing the bell at the convent door. The good 
sisters knew me well, short as my stay had been at 
Torwood Towers; with them I knew I was safe; 
with them I felt sure of a welcome and a home. 

“ I need not speak of the shock, the amazement, 
almost consternation, of the sisterhood at seeing the 
dead alive. I explained as much as was necessary 
to all except the mother — to her alone I told all, and 
asked for secrecy and shelter, for the present at 
least. I scarcely knew what I meant to do — go to 
the city and try to obtain, under an assumed name, 
a situation as governess, or something like that. I 
wished to take the veil, but our kind mother would 
not let me act on impulse. ‘Wait, dear child,’ she 
said, ‘let this be your home as long as you choose, 
and if, after half a year, you find you really have a 
vocation, no one will be happier than I to receive 
you among us.’ So, Madge, while you all were search- 
ing for some clew to the mysterious murder, the 
murdered one was tranquilly living in your very 
midst.” 

“ And very shabby it was of you,” was Madge’s 
blunt comment, “ not to say selfish. How did you 
know some one might not be arrested on suspi- 
cion ? ” 

“ I should have known, and in that case would 
have appeared ; but no one was. I lived on with 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 287 

the sisters, and, having no dresses of my own, as- 
sumed a habit similar to theirs, to avoid exciting re- 
marks by peculiarity of costume. I dropped my first 
name of Edith, and took my second, Marie, so that I 
wear this recluse robe, and am called Sister Marie, 
without being in the least a nun.” 

“ For which, thanksgiving ! What’s more, I don’t 
believe you ever will be a nun,” said Madge, her 
eyes twinking. “ And so, When the rest of the sisters 
came here to look after the wounded soldiers. Sister 
Marie came with them ? ” 

“ She did, very glad to get anywhere out of Tor- 
woodtown, and here she has been since.” 

“ And so we have got to the end of the story, by 
a somewhat circumbendibus route, at last,” said 
Madge, drawing a long breath. “ And now, what’s 
the next thing that’s to happen, I should like to 
know ? ” 

“ Should you ? ” said Colonel Stuart, advancing. 
“ Don’t be too impatient, my dear Madge, and you 
shall hear all about it. Sister Marie — Miss Tor wood 

By the way, mademoiselle, how are we to 

address you ? ” 

“ Oh, say Edith ; the other two are misnomers.” 

‘‘ ‘ Say Edith ! ’ ” mimicked Madge. ‘‘ There was 
a time when Dr. Stuart scarcely dared to look at 
Miss Edith Torwood, much less pronounce her 
august name. But then, he’s a colonel now, and 
time and military buttons do work wonders.” 

The old wicked light sparkled in the laughing 
blue eyes. Colonel Stuart turned on Edith, and 
Edith’s pallor lapsed for a moment into “ celestial 
rosy red,” 


288 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


“ There was a time, little sister, when I did not 
know my friends from my enemies,” Edith said, her 
sweet voice trembling a little ; “ but that time is 
past, and forever. I know Colonel Stuart far better 
than I ever did Dr. Stuart.” 

“And like him a little better, I hope,” said out- 
spoken Madge ; “ he is not so utterly depraved, 
after all. Even Old Harry, they say, is not as black 
as he is painted.” 

Colonel Stuart made Madge a bow. 

“ I appreciate the compliment, mademoiselle. 
Do you remember,” turning to Edith, “ the morning 
after your arrival here ? ” 

“ M^hen I encountered you, and Angus, and Mr. 
McPherson ? ” she said, looking amused. “ Is it 
likely I shall forget it ? ” 

Talk of galvanic shocks,” said the colonel ; “ I 
never was so completely electrified in all my life. 
I was confident you were living, but I had no more 
idea of meeting you here than I would of meeting 
Madge in the wilds of Kamschatka. I frightened 
Angus out of a year’s growth, I believe, too.” 

“ What a mercy you did not swoon in somebody’s 
arms,” said Madge, turning up the whites of her 
eyes. “ How did you scare Mr. Tor wood ? ” 

“ By whispering in his ear one little phrase, ‘ Edith 
is here!'’ The cry he gave at the announcement 
brought up Mr. McPherson, and Angus afterward 
told him all. Did you really think you were unrec- 
ognized, Edith ? ” 

“ I really did. I knew my illness had altered me ; 
and then there was my disguise — my nun’s dress. 
Angus sometimes gave me reason to think he sus- 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 289 

pected ; but you were all very discreet, Colonel 
Stuart.” 

‘‘ Why didn’t you let Edith know you recognized 
her ? ” was Madge’s sensible question, and Colonel 
Stuart laughed. 

“ One of my whims, I suppose. I had a fancy for 
finding out the whole thing first, by myself — the 
pretense being to know for certain whether or not 
she really were a Sister of Charity.” 

“ That was nothing to you, I should think,” said 
Madge. 

“ Wasn’t it ? ” replied Colonel Stuart, with a queer 
look. “ I found out my way from Mother Frances, 
and thus set out for New York, where Florence was, 
and is, flourishing like a queen, to begin my investi- 
gation. A rare fright I gave Mrs. St. Leon, and in 
her terror she made an Open confession of all. I 
had long ago suspected Lucy ; but my suspicions 
became certainty then. I returned to Torwood, had 
an interview with Huldah, who proved obdurate as 
a rock, and would reveal nothing. It mattered 
little, however. I knew I could force a confession 
of guilt from Lucy herself, and did so, before I saw 
you next morning, Madge.” 

“ It seems to me you took a great deal of trouble 
for nothing,” was Madge’s comment. “ You saw 
somebody else before you left, too.” 

“ My mother — yes ; and that reminds me she will 
be here to-morrow to take charge of you again. Miss 
Madge, and to — to welcome you, Edith, back to life.” 

She is very kind,” Edith said, shrinking a little, 
however, at the idea of meeting her frigid step- 
mother. 

19 


290 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

Colonel Stuart saw it. 

“ I assure you,” he said, earnestly, “ you will find 
her as greatly changed as yourself, and sincerely 
glad to see you. Her wish was that you should 
leave this place, and remain with her while she stays 
in Washington.” 

‘‘ ISTo,” said Edith, quietly, but resolutely ; “ I 
shall remain here. Madge, of course, will stay with 
her ; but this is my home.” 

“ Until you return to Tor wood Towers you mean.” 

“I am not sure that I shall ever return there. 
Colonel Stuart — never, at least ” 

She stopped ; but he understood her. 

While Lucy is there. Can Sister Marie not for- 
give and forget ? ” 

“ I have forgiven long ago — forgotten is quite an- 
other matter. Lucy would no more wish to see me 
there than I should wish to go.” 

“ I fancy Lucy will have the grace to leave Tor- 
wood altogether before long ; so that obstacle will 
be withdrawn. And now I must go, I suppose, or 
Mother Frances will be for turning me out. Madge, 
they will take care of you here for to-night ; to- 
morrow my mother will resume possession. You 
will not object to seeing her, Edith ? ” 

“ Certainly not, Colonel Stuart.” 

‘‘ Can’t I see Angus to-night ? ” asked Madge. “ I 
know you are going. Colonel Stuart — suppose you 
take me with you.” 

“ Too late, ma chere^'^ said Edith. “Wait until 
to-morrow, and I will take you.” 

“ Good-night, then,” said the colonel, taking up 
his hat. “ I shall see you both early to-morrow.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 29I 

Edith looked at him wistfully. 

‘‘ I have not thanked you yet, Colonel Stuart, and 
I owe you a great deal. How am I to prove I am 
not, as Madge says, ungrateful ? ” 

He turned round with the old bright smile she 
remembered so well. 

“ By granting me a boon I am going to ask before 
long.” 

She looked puzzled. 

“ What is it ? I don’t understand.” 

“Madge is listening, and might be scandalized,” 
he said, laughing. “ I can’t explain now. You 
shall have a chance to prove your gratitude, though. 
Miss Edith, before long ; and so, good night.” 


2Cy2 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


CHAPTEK XXYIL 

POSSIBILITIES. 

‘‘ Man proposes,” so do young ladies occasionally, 
and with the same result. Edith had made up her 
mind to stay in the hospital ; but when Madame 
Torwood came there in state, in a grand barouche, 
her graceful form enveloped in a stylish velvet 
mantle, her broad flounces redolent of perfume, her 
cobweb handkerchief moist with penitent tears, and 
descending gracefully into the Valley of Humilia- 
tion, implored forgiveness for the past, and friend- 
ship for the future, Edith could not refuse. Xeither 
could she, when implored, as a proof of that forgive- 
ness, decline visiting madame in her hotel ; so, 
half-yielding, half-reluctant, the great lady carried 
her point and her Creole step-daughter back with 
her, and, what was more, had kept her ever since. 
Marvelous was the change that had come over the 
spirit of madam^s dream. Edith was in a fair way 
of being killed with kindness in her step-mother’s 
extreme solicitude to atone for the past ; and Edith 
being a good Christian, as you all know, could do 
no less than smoke the pipe of peace, and submit to 
being called “ my love,” and kissed every night and 
morning, with a good grace. 

In a pretty sitting-room, looking out on a long 
street, a young lady sat in a low rocking-chair. 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 293 

swaying to and fro, and alternately watching the 
stream of restless life below and readins: the morn- 
ing paper. A young lady, tall and slender, black- 
eyed and curly-haired, whose rosy cheeks and crim- 
son Zouave jacket were of much the same shade, 
and whose restless foot beat somebody’s tattoo on 
the carpet impatiently while she rocked. 

It was Miss Madge Tor wood, of course, who un- 
able to scour the country as of yore, the moment 
she was out of dreamland, was sitting thus arrayed 
for the day at eight in the morning, waiting for 
somebody to come and call her to breakfast. 

Meanwhile, by way of sharpening her appetite 
for that meal, she was devouring the latest news 
from the seat of Avar. A skirmish had taken place 
somewhere, with no decisive results on either side, 
and Madge was deep in the dismal details, when the 
door opened, and somebody came in. DoAyn went 
the paper, and up jumped the youngest Miss Tor- 
wood. 

“ Is breakfast read . Why, good gracious 

me ! Angus Torwood ! you never mean to say this 
is you ? ” 

For instead of Fifine, madam’s maid, Avho had 
come Avith her from Torwood, a pale, holloAv- 
cheeked, sunken-eyed Ausion, in the blue and gold 
of Uncle Sam’s service, stood before her, chapeau 
in hand. 

“ It’s all that’s left of me,” said Captain Tor- 
Avood. “ Hoav do you do this morning, Madge ? 
Reading the news?” 

Madge, Avith her black eyes very Avide open in her 
astonishment, pushed a chair toward him, 


294 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


“ Sit down ! Who on earth would ever think of 
seeing you at this hour of the day ? Has the hos- 
pital taken fire, and have they turned you out on 
the charity of the world, to cool yourself ? I de- 
clare you lock as if you had been dead a week, and 
somebody had dug you up.” 

Thank you, Miss Torwood ! you always were 
more candid than polite. I suppose the rest of the 
good folks are not up yet ? ” 

“Up yet! ” reiterated Madge, in tones of piercing 
shrillness ; “ if folks will sit up to three or four 
o’clock in the morning, they can’t be expected to 
get out of bed at day-dawn. I say it’s a downright 
scandal burning gas and candles and saving the sun 
the way people do in this house, and I mean to give 
Edith a piece of my mind about it just as soon as 
she makes her appearance.” 

“What kept Edith up to three or four in the 
morning?” inquired Captain Torwood, hooking a 
stool toward him with the head of his cane, and 
resting his feet thereon. 

“ How do I know ? Settling the affairs of State 
with Colonel Stuart and his mamma. I went down 
this morning just to see, and, if you’ll believe me, 
the candles, six long wax candles, lighted for the 
first time at half-past eight last night, were burned 
clear down before these three left the parlor last 
night.” 

“ Is it possible ? ” said Angus, smiling at Madge’s 
indignant solemnity ; “ and why didn’t Madge 
make one of the party ? ” 

“ For the very best of reasons, they wouldn’t let 
me ! Oh^ no ! it would never do for me to hear 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 295 

their secrets, so I was politely turned out. But the 
next time they do it,” cried Madge, glaring at va- 
cancy, “ I’ll listen at the keyhole, I will, so help 
me ! The Torwoods are getting mean enough for 
anything — there’s Lucy turned out a sinner and 
a reprobate on the face of the earth ; there’s Flor- 
ence running away with another girl’s property ; 
there’s yourself getting bullets in your system, all 
in pursuit of glory ; there’s Edith going to marry 
Paul Stuart, after pretending to hate the very 
ground he walked on. I don’t know what things are 
coming to, but I do know this world is all a fleet- 
ing show, as Mr. Moore remarks, and nobody in it 
can be trusted as far as you can see him or her, and 
I’ll listen at the keyhole if they won’t let me in — 
you see if I don’t, that’s all ! ” 

“ How do you know Edith is going to be married 
to Colonel Stuart ? ” Angus asked. 

‘‘How do I know!” retorted Madge, in high 
tones of scorn. “ How do I know the sun is shinning 
up in the sky there 1 Because I see it. Don’t I 
know he is going to buy Torwood Towers from his 
mother — it’s hers now, it seems — buy it at whatever 
Mr. McPherson and a lot of others may value it at ; 
and don’t I know he refused to have anything to do 
with that will, and that we four girls are to get our 
equal share of papa’s money, as if the will had 
never been made ; and I know that Lucy and Ma- 
dame Torwood are going off to Europe together ; 
and I know what’s worst of all, that I’m to be sent 
to school, as if I wasn’t learned enough for every- 
thing now, and to a convent at that ! I wish the 
convent joy that gets me, anyhow ; they’ll be just 


296 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

as sorry for having me there as I am to go, or my 
name’s not Madge ! ” 

“ And how have you found out all this, pray ? 
At the keyhole ? ” inquired Angus. 

Madge nodded, mysteriously. 

“JSTever you mind. Captain Tor wood. I’ve found 
it out, and that’s enough. Will you go to Edith’s 
wedding ? ” 

‘‘ If I am asked — certainly.” 

“ Oh, you will ! There was a time — but no mat- 
ter — you might blush if I allude to it. I suppose 
you’ll be off, going to the war again, and getting a 
few more bullets into you now that you’re able to 
be about ? ” 

‘‘ Would you be sorry, Madge ? ” 

Sorry for what ? ” 

“ If I were shot.” 

“ Yes, I would,” said Madge, snappishly. “ Who 
do you suppose wants to wear bombazine and black 
crape now that the hot weather’s coming on? If 
it was the fall now it would be different, but I dare 
say you’ll go and get killed the first thing, just for 
contrariness ; it would be exactly like you men to 
do it ! ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


^97 


CHAPTEK XXYIIL 

A NEW FRIEND. 

“ My dear Madge,” said Angus, “ it seems to me 
you’re cross this morning, aren’t you ? Is it for want 
of your breakfast, or ” 

A tap at the door interrupted him. It was Edith, 
dressed in black, still her favorite hue, bub with knots 
of purple ribbon relieving its somberness, and with 
bows of purple in her shining dark hair. She was 
looking infinitely better than on the night of Madge’s 
arrival. Edith must have found some elixir of life 
in those few days, for she looked a new being. Her 
astonishment at seeing her cousin almost equaled 
that of Madge. 

“ Why, Angus,” she said, coming forward with 
outstretched . hand, ‘‘ is it possible ! Who would 
have expected to see you here ! ” 

Angus laughed. 

“ Madge says I look as if I had been dead and dug 
up ; but she can’t say the same of you. You are as 
blooming as a rose, Edith.” 

“ Oh, to be sure,” said Madge, “ sitting up to the 
small hours and sleeping until noon is enough to 
make a howling wilderness bloom.” (Madge’s similes 
were always rather wild, if you remember.) “ I hope 
you three settled the whole thing for good last 
night.” 


298 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

Settled what ? ” 

‘‘ Your wedding, of course, if you must have it in 
plain English ! When is it to be ? ” 

“ Madge ! ” 

“ That’s no answer to my question. If you won’t 
tell me, 1 mean to ask Colonel Stuart, Avhen he comes, 
and not wear myself to skin and bone with suspense 
as I am doing. Who’s this? Come in ? ” 

Another tap at the door ; this time Madame Tor- 
wood sailed in, in a vast white wrapper, holding a 
letter in her hand. As a matter of course, she, too, 
was surprised at sight of Angus at such an hour, 
particularly as it was his first time out. 

“Dear me. Captain Torwood! AVhat an un- 
expected pleasure ! When did you come ? ” 

“ Half an hour ago. I had a presentiment Madge 
might be out of humor, and stepped in to soothe 
her.” 

“ Very polite of you, I am sure. Edith, I have a 
letter for you.” 

“ For me ! ” exclaimed Edith ; “ from whom ? ” 

“ You never would guess ! From Lucy ! ” 

She held out a tiny note, superscribed in the deli- 
cate chirography of Lucy Torwood, Madge whistled, 
Angus looked grave, and Edith’s face fiushed as she 
tore it open. Yery short it was— only two lines, but 
tears sprang to Edith’s eyes as she read them. 

“ My Sister : — I am very sorry for what I have 
done. Forgive me— I shall never forgive myself. 

“ Lucy.” 

“ Has she told you she is going away, Edith ? ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 299 

asked madam, as Edith stood silent with the note in 
her hand. 

“ No, madam.” 

“ Where is she going to ? ” asked fierce Madge. 

“ Mr. and Mrs. Emory are going to Baltimore this 
week, and have invited her to accompany them. 
She will go, she says, and stay until I call for her. 
So, Edith, my dear, there will be nothing to prevent 
you and Paul from going to Torwood Towers im- 
mediately after the ceremony !’’ 

“ After what ceremony ? ” inquired Madge, with 
an innocent face. 

“My dear Madge, little girls should be seen 
and not heard. Captain Torwood, you will stay 
and breakfast with us. Come along, it is wait- 
ing.-’ 

“ Oh, be joyful ! ” cried Madge, springing up. 
“ Captain Torwood, permit me to offer you my arm 
to the breakfast parlor. You don’t look fit for such 
a journey unaided. We’ll give you something bet- 
ter than the gruels and dry toast ‘ Sister Marie ’ 
used to dose you with in the hospital ! ” 

As they all took their places round the table, and 
Madame Torwood was clattering away among the 
cups and saucers, Fifine put in her head all stream- 
ing with pink ribbons. 

“ Colonel Stuart is below, madam, and wants to 
see you.” 

“ So early ! Tell him to come up.” 

Colonel Stuart came hastily up-stairs, and made 
his appearance in the breakfast room. 

“ Good morning, all ! I thought I should find you 
here, Torwood. Have you heard the news ? ” 


300 THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 

“ What news ? ” asked his mother. ‘‘ Will you 
take a cup of tea ? ” 

‘‘ Thank you. You haven’t heard it, then ? You 
know there came a lot of wounded late last night to 
the hospital ? ” 

“Yes,” said Angus, to whom he spoke. 

“Well, sir,” said Colonel Stuart, stirring his tea, 
“ this morning I went the rounds, and whom do you 
suppose I saw in the very bed you so lately vacated ? ” 

“ I couldn’t guess.” 

“ Captain Giaccomo St. Leon.” 

There was a general exclamation, and Madge’s 
tea, in her surprise, went the wrong way, and nearly 
choked her. The diversion caused by this was some 
time in subsiding, and by the time it was over, so 
was the first shock of the announcement. 

“ Nobody else,” said Colonel Stuart, “ and with 
his right arm off, poor fellow. It was he knew me 
first — a saber cut across the face, received long ago, 
has altered him so, I should never have recognized 
him. He bears his misfortune like a man I must 
say, and seemed only too glad to have fallen into 
my hands.” 

They were all silent for a few minutes. Madge 
looked cunningly at Edith, but Edith’s face was 
thoughtful and serious, nothing more. St. Leon 
was to her as an utter stranger now. 

“ Does the saber cut spoil his good looks ? ” Madge 
asked, a little disappointed at her sister’s composure. 

“ More’s the pity — yes. St. Leon can never set 
up for a lady-killer again.” 

“ I should think it would worry him horribly — I 
know it would me if I lost mine ! ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 30I 

“ My dear Madge, what are you talking about ! 
You have none to lose ! ” 

Madge dropped her knife and fork with an omi- 
nous clatter, but madam interfered. 

‘‘Madge, be quiet. Paul, you ought to know bet- 
ter ! He bears his afflictions with fortitude, then — 
Who would ever think he was such a Christian ? ’’ 

“ He bears them like a philosopher, not like a 
Christian. What is to be will be, is his motto still. 
Besides,” and Colonel Stuart’s eyes looked roguish. 
“ he is married, and what odds about a married man’s 
looks! ” 

Edith smiled, but her face looked serious still. 

“ Does he speak of his wife ? ” asked Angus. 

“ Yes, he wants to see her very much, and I tele- 
graphed to Hew York before I came here. She 
ought to be with him by the end of the week.” 

“ Do you think she will come ? ” 

“ I am sure of it ; Florence will not disregard a 
letter from me ; she stands in wholesome awe of me 
of late. Edith, don’t look so solemn — what are you 
thinking about ? ” 

“ Captain St. Leon, of course,” said Madge’s ever 
pert tongue. 

“Yes,” said Edith, lifting her dark eyes quietly ; 
“of course the loss of his arm ends his soldiering. 
What are he and Florence to do when he recovers ? ” 

“ He is going to his friends in Connecticut, if he 
can manage to get there ; he is a prisoner of war, you 
know, now. Then there is Florence’s dowry — they’ll 
manage, I dare say.” 

“ What are his friends in Connecticut ? ” 

“ Farmers, I believe,” answered Edith ; “ they 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


302 

will hardly suit Florence after her gay life in l^ew 
York. I am very sorry for Captain St. Leon.” 

“ I mean to go to see him,” said Madge, “ and be 
a ministering angel, and all that sort of thing to 
him, until Florence comes. May I, Colonel Stuart ? ” 
“Fll speak to St. Leon about it, my dear. Will 
you go, Edith ? ” 

If he would like to see me — certainly.” 

‘‘ AVon’t it be a meeting ? ” said Madge, bounding 
up and coming down in her chair in little ecstatic 
springs, “ and when Mrs. St. Leon comes, Barnum’s 
happy family will be nothing to it. Lucy ought to 
be here to clap the climax.” 

“ Madge, I am ashamed of you ! ” said Angus, 
putting on a paternal air, as they moved from the 
table ; ‘‘ forget and forgive ; there is nothing like it.” 

“ It’s lately you found it out then. AVhen you 
tried to blow St. Leon’s brains out in Torwoodtown, 
you did not think so.” 

As you are strong, be merciful, Madge. I have 
learned more than that lately — among the rest, that 
you are growing exactly like Edith.” 

“ Only ever so much better-looking, you might 
have manners to add ; but manners and you might 
be married, for you are no relations.” 

“ Relations get married sometimes ; there are such 
things as dispensations. Are you off again. Colonel ? ” 
“I believe so; you need not hurry, though. I 
have something to attend to, and must. Good-by 
Madge,” he said, speaking low, “ I don’t believe we 
will let you go to school, after all. I have another 
plan in my head, and will tell you all about it next 
time I come.” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


303 


CHAPTEE XXIX. 

FLORENCE . AMD HER HUSBAND. 

A PAIR of handsome horses, glittering in silver- 
plated harness, and drawing an elegant barouche, 
came prancing through one of the principal streets 
of Washington. It was a sunny afternoon, one week 
after that imperative telegram had gone from that 
imperative gentleman. Colonel Stuart, to a certain 
beautiful lady in Xew York, and the prancing 
horses and elegant barouche drew up with a flourish 
in front of the stylish hotel where Colonel Stuart’s 
mother at present resided. A lady, young and fair 
as a vision, lying back languidly among the velvet 
cushions, her dress of silver-gray silk falling around 
her, her long velvet mantle hanging in costly folds 
from her sloping shoulders, her bonnet the perfec- 
tion of millinery art, her filmy lace veil and little 
pink parasol protecting her primrose face from the 
too ardent glance of the sun, got up as it stopped, 
and held out her daintily gloved hand to be helped 
to alight. The crowd of loungers on the hotel steps, 
and the throng of passers-by, stared hard, in curi- 
osity and admiration at the stylish figure and beauti- 
ful face, and the young lady bore the scrutiny with 
the easy air of one quite used to it. 

“ You will wait for me,'’ she said to the driver, 
“ I will be back directly.” 


304 the sisters of torwood. 

Gathering up the sweeping amplitude of her silken 
skirts in her gloved fingers, she was about to trip up 
the steps when she found herself suddenly accosted. 
Another young lady, much less magnificently 
arrayed, walking along, with her hands stuck in her 
jacket pockets, a coquettish little hat stuck rakishly 
on top of her head, her black eyes beaming on 
society as it moved past, had made a dart forward, 
with a cry of “ It is I ” and standing oefore the 
beauty in silver-gray, fluted out her skirts in an ela- 
borate bow, and began, with the greatest em])resse- 
ment : ” 

“ How do you do, Mrs. St. Leon ? IIow do you do ? 
Delighted of all things to see you again, I am 
sure.” 

The lady turned a pair of violet eyes on the gipsy 
face of the speaker, and holding out her hand with 
languid grace, made a feeble attempt at a kiss 
through her veil. 

“ Ah, Madge, is it you ? How do you do, and how 
are all the rest ? ” 

Madge, totally ignoring the proffered kiss, gin- 
gerly touched the kidded fingers held out, and 
dropped them again as if they had been red- 
hot. 

“ Everybody’s in splendid condition, and will be 
enchanted to set you of all people, Edith particu- 
larly ! How glad you must be to meet her again ! ” 

The loungers, looking and listening with vivid in- 
terest, saw a quick, hot flush overspread the fair 
face of Mrs. St. Leon. Even obtuse Florence felt 
Madge’s cutting words, and had the grace to feel 
ashamed. In a letter, following the telegram, 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 30$ 

Colonel Stuart had entered into particulars, and 
Florence knew as much as Avas neccessary of Edith’s 
story. 

“ Is she here ? ” she asked, glancing up at the front 
windows of the hotel. 

“ Up-stairs with Madame Tor wood and Colonel 
Stuart, and Cousin Angus. Oh,” here Madge, per- 
forming a little ecstatic caper in her delight, “ wonH 
it be a happy meeting ! ” 

“ Here, let us go up,” said Florence, a little crossly ; 
“ everybody, is staring ! How is Giaccomo ? ” 

“ Just as bad as ever he can be, and shouting for 
you all the time like sixty,” inventing her facts as 
she went along; ‘Gie has been up in the highest of 
fevers, they say, and raving fit to raise the roof. I 
haven’t seen him myself — my nerves couldn’t stand 
it ; but they say he is perfectly awful ! ” 

“ Has Edith been to see him ? ” Florence ventured, 
Avith hesitation. 

“ Where Avas the use ; he wouldn’t know her. Be- 
sides, Edith has something else to do now besides 
trotting around to hospitals looking after raving 
mad soldiers. Don’t you know she’s going to be 
married ? ” 

“ Ho ! is she ? To Colonel Stuart ? ” 

“ Exactly ; and she is going to reign like a queen 
at Tor wood ToAvers ! You knoAV Colonel Stuart is 
richer than any Christian man has a right to be, and 
Edith is to have diamonds and things, bushels of 
them, if she chooses, and two or three French maids 
to comb her hair and fix her every day, and millions 
of lovely silk dresses, be-yeutiful bonnets, and oh, 
my ! ” Madge cried, the English language failing in 
20 


3o6 the sisters of torwood. 

her raptures, I couldn’t begin to tell you all the 
things she’s going to have ! ” 

Madge had threatened more times than once to 
lacerate Florence’s pretty face with her finger-nails 
if they ever met. They had met at last, and she 
was doing worse, lacerating her frivolous heart with 
envy. With a bitter sigh, she listened to her 
younger sister’s glowing account, and wished with 
all her heart she had been less in a hurry to run off 
with Giaccomo St. Leon. 

“ Here we are,” exclaimed Madge, flinging open a 
door, and sailing into a large room, with Florence in 
tow. ‘‘ Ladies and gentlemen, Mrs. St. Leon ! ” 
Madame Torwood, Angus Torwood, Edith Tor- 
wood, and Colonel Stuart, all were there, and all 
arose. There was an awkward little pause, which 
Madge enjoyed beyond everything, and then Colo- 
onel Stuart came forward, with extended hand and 
smiling face. 

I am very glad to see you, Mrs. St. Leon — we 
are all glad to see you ! Have you just come ? ” 
“Yes,” Florence said falteringly, and Madame 
Torwood swept up to shake hands. “ How do you 
do, Mrs. St. Leon ?” she said, but it was very coldly 

said, indeed. “ Edith, my dear ” 

She stopped. Edith, a little paler, a little graver 
than usual, had taken both Florence’s hands in hers, 
and kissed her. 

“ I am glad to see you, Florence,” was all she said, 
and Florence, to the surprise of everybody, threw 
her arms round her neck, and broke into a hysterical 
storm of tears. 

“ Oh Edith, oh Edith ! how can you ever forgive 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 307 

me ! ” was her cry, and then her voice was lost in 
violent sobs. 

“ Dear Florence, it is all over and gone. I have for- 
given you long and long ago,” Edith said, as much 
surprised as the rest at the unlooked-for outburst. 

“ There is some good in her, after all,” thought 
Colonel Stuart, turning to the window, and Madge 
gave vent to her feelings in a long, wailing whistle. 

But it was only momentary ; Florence’s emotions 
Avere in a very flimsy condition at the best, and never 
lasted long. A perfumed and lace-bordered hand- 
kerchief wiped away the last tears, and she was sit- 
ting down on the sofa between Edith and Angus, 
quite herself again. 

‘‘There is no danger of Giaccomo dying, is 
there ? ” she was asking. “ Madge says he is in a 
dreadful fever, and knows no one.” 

Colonel Stuart laughed, and Edith looked shocked. 

“ iN^othing of the sort, Florence ! Madge, I am 
really surprised at you ! How can you say such 
things ! ” 

“ Well, I heard somebody saying yesterday he was 
feverish,” said Madge, “ and if he is not delirious he 
might be. I am sure I Avould be if my right arm 
Avas cut off ! ” 

“ It’s so horrid,” said Florence, in the tone of an 
injured person, “to have one’s husband going about 
all his life Avith only one arm. I don't see why he 
couldn’t have been more careful ! I told him before 
he Avent away he Avould come back a fright, and now 
he sees whether I Avas right or not.” 

“ He ought to be ashamed of himself,” said 
Madge, Avhile Edith and Madame TorAvood looked 


3o8 the sisters of torwood. 

very grave, Colonel Stuart and Angus exchanged 
smiles, “ disgracing his wife and sisters-in-law, 
with only one arm, not to speak of an ugly gash 
across his face that makes him look worse than a 
live gorilla. If I were Florence, I would sue for a 
divorce ! ” 

Madge, hold your tongue,” said Madame Tor- 
wood. ‘‘ Mrs. St. Leon, I beg you will pay no atten- 
tion to vour sister — she has not seen your husband 
at all.” 

“ I ought to go, I suppose,” said Florence, with a 
sigh of resignation ; “ Edith I wish you would come 
with me — I don’t want to go alone.” 

Edith rose at once and left the room to get ready. 
She had visited Captain St. Leon already — it had 
been a ver}^ quiet meeting, so composed on her part 
that you might have thought she had never seen him 
before. She was back in a few minutes, and 
Florence was bidding them good-by, and promising 
to return to spend the evening, led the way to the 
carriage. 

Madge told me that you were going to be mar- 
ried,” she said, as they drove along ; “ is it true ? ” 
Edith smiled and blushed a little. “ Quite true.” 
“ Dear me ! how odd ! You don’t hate Colonel 
Stuart as much now as you used to do ? ” 

“ No,” said Edith, a smile deepening at the per- 
fectly serious question. “ I was a very bad girl in 
those days, I am afraid.” 

‘‘ I am sure I never thought you would have 
come to marry him, of all men ! What did you say 
when you found out Giaccomo and I had run away 
together ? ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


309 


“ I don’t remember, and as it is all over now, it 
will be as well, perhaps, not to speak of it at 
all.” 

“ I know I acted badly,” said Florence, whose 
perceptions had not grown more delicate with the 
passage of time ; “ but it was a great deal more 
Lucy’s doings than mine. Only for her I don’t 
believe I should ever have done it. She was awfully 
deceitful, wasn’t she ? ” 

Edith was silent. Florence ran on : 

“ I never was so frightened in all my life as when 1 
heard you were murdered, except the night Colonel 
Stuart came to me in New York, and threatened 
such terrible things if I would not confess all I knew. 
Lucy wanted him so badly herself, at least she 
wanted his money, for she disliked him dreadfully. 
I should think she would feel horrid now at being 
found out. Where is she — moping at Tor wood 
Towers still ? ” 

“ No ; she is in Baltimore, with Mr. and Mrs. 
Emory.” 

I suppose you will live at Torwood after you are 
married — where will she stay then ? ” 

“ She is going to Paris with Madame Torwood.” 

‘‘ Is she really ? How nice that will be. Is Madge 
going to stop with you ? ” 

No, Madge is going to school for a year or two, 
at the end of which time she is to be married ! ” 

“ What ? ” exclaimed Florence, opening her eyes, 
“ Madge married ! To whom ? ” 

‘‘ To Angus,” said Edith, smiling. “ Oh, I 
forgot it is all news to you ! Madge ought to have 
told you that with the other items 1 ” 


310 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


“ Well, I declare ! How long have they been en- 
gaged ? ” 

‘‘ Only two or three days, I believe.” 

‘‘ But, Edith, Angus used to be in love with you ? ” 

‘‘ Well, he has got over it, you see, and thinks now 
there is nobody in the world like Madge.” 

“ And she likes him ? ” 

I presume so, since she has promised so readily 
to be his wife.” 

“ Well, I am surprised ! What did Giaccomo say 
when he saw you ? ” 

‘‘ He said, ‘ How do you do ? ’ I think, and several 
other remarks of a like nature.” 

Does he look as frightful as Madge says ? ” 

His face is scarred, and he has lost his arm, poor 
fellow, but he is by no means frightful.” 

“ I say it’s too bad,” Florence cried out resentfully, 
“ that he should be made such an object of, while 
other men come off unhurt. I wonder how long be- 
fore he is well ? ” 

It will be some time, I think.” 

“ I’ll never go to Connecticut— I never will ! ” Flor- 
ence exclaimed, the thought striking her ; ‘‘ if there 
is an exchange of prisoners and he goes South again. 
I’ll go with him ; but. I’ll never go down East among 
his friends, and so I mean to tell him ! Where are 
Madge and Angus going to reside ? ” 

“ Angus owns an estate in Cuba ; they will go 
there.” 

“ It was kind of Colonel Stuart to give us all our 
fortunes, and not take advantage of that shabby 
will,” said Florence, jumping at another topic ; ‘‘ he 
has behaved really well^ I must say ; but I never 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 31I 

could have imagined you would be his wife. Where’s 
that horrid old witch, lluldah, now ? ” 

“ Where she always is — at Torwood.” 

“ I should think she would clear out of that before 
you go back. Oh, this is the place ! ” 

They had stopped at the hospital, and, alighting, 
Edith led the way in. In the same place where 
Angus Torwood had turned so impatiently, Giaccomo 
St. Leon was lying, propped up with pillows now — 
Giaccomo St. Leon, but wasted to the shadow of 
what he had once been, his emaciated face disfigured 
by a long purplish scar, his large dark eyes, once so 
brilliant, sunken and dim. 

lie was reading when they entered, but the rus- 
tling of Florence’s silk skirt meeting his ear, he turned 
round, and was face to face with his wife. That 
lady’s first greeting was a suppressed shriek, at sight 
of his altered looks. 

“ Oh, my goodness ! what a fright you have be- 
come ! I declare you do look perfectly awful.” 

Poor St. Leon ! In the glance he turned to Edith 
at the wifely greeting, she had all the revenge she 
need ever have desired. That hour was the hour of 
retribution for Giaccomo St. Leon ! 

‘‘ It can’t be helped now, Floy,” he said, holding 
out his left hand ; “ better to lose one’s arm and 
good looks than one’s life. How have you been ever 
since ? ” 

He need hardly have asked. Florence was in ex- 
cellent condition, and a striking contrast to the liv- 
ing skeleton before her. As she sat on a chair by 
the bed Edith turned to go. 

“ I will leave you for half an hour,” the latter said. 


312 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


‘‘ I must return to the hotel then. I have an engage^ 
ment.” 

Edith found the half-hour pass very swiftly and 
pleasantly among the old friends, nurses, and pa- 
tients — much more pleasantly than it had passed 
with the husband and wife, judging by the faces of 
both when she returned. Florence rose at her com- 
ing with a look of unmistakable relief. 

I’ll be back to-morrow, Giaccomo,” she said, 
shaking out her robes. ‘‘ It’s a horrible place, but I 
suppose there’s no help for it.” 

“ And I may as well say good-by, Mr. St. Leon,” 
said Edith, as we leave for Torwoodtown to-mor- 
row, and I shall not see you again.” 

“I have been telling him about your marriage,” 
said Florence ; “ is it at Torwoodtown it comes off ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Edith, coloring, and feeling very 
strange indeed, under the circumstances. 

‘‘ You have my best wishes,” was all St. Leon said, 
in a very subdued voice. ‘‘ Colonel Stuart and your- 
self are worthy of each other. Farewell.” 

And so they parted — those two so much to each 
other once — nothing at all now. There were tears 
in Edith’s eyes when they gained the street, but Mrs. 
St. Leon’s were dry. 

“ I do say it is too bad,” was her indignant cry, 
“to have one’s husband made such a scarecrow of. 
I shall be ashamed to be seen with him — I know I 
shall ! I only wish I had never been such a fool as 
to elope ! What shall you be married in, Edith — 
white ? ” 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


313 


CHAPTEK XXX. 

THE WEDDING. 

Torwoodtown was in a state of great excitement. 
The whole population had their countenances glued 
to their window-panes watching two carriages 
driving swiftly by in the direction of the Kev. Mr. 
Peterson’s humble little church. That edifice was 
thronged, too, albeit it was Thursday, not Sunday 
morning, and Father Peterson, in stole and surplice, 
stood within the sanctuary, waiting like the rest. 
He had not long to wait. The carriages, stopping 
at the door, two military gentlemen. Colonel Stuart 
and Captain Torwood, alighted from one, and 
Madame Torwood, Miss Edith Torwood, and Miss 
Madge were helped out of the other, and the whole 
party sailed into the church. 

Madame Torwood was as magnificent as moire 
antique, velvet crape, and plumed bonnet could 
make her, and swept up the aisle, in superb disdain 
of the crowd of starers around her. Edith was in 
white, filmy and floating, orange blossoms wreath- 
ing her black hair, and a costly bridal veil envelop- 
ing her from head to foot like a cloud of mist. 
Madge was in white, too, and might have been mis- 
taken for another bride, only the orange wreath 
and wedding veil were absent, and she sailed along 
the aisle, nodding and smiling to those she knew, 


314 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 


and returning every stare with compound interest. 
And 

“ Before the altar now they stand, 

The bridegroom and the bride, 

And who shall paint what lovers feel 
In this their hour of pride ? ” 

It was all over ! They had gone into the sacristy 
and registered their names, bidden good-by to Father 
Peterson, for they were to leave Torwoodtown, 
were back again in their carriages on their way to 
the old homestead, and Edith was Edith Tor wood 
no more, but Mrs. Colonel Paul Stuart. 

The program was all arranged. The whole 
party left for Baltimore at noon ; madam was to 
join Lucy there, and start for 'New York, en route 
for Liverpool. Edith, too, was to see Lucy before 
they parted, perhaps forever, and afterwards remain 
in the city until sundry additions and improvements, 
now going busily on at the Towers, should be com- 
pleted. Madge, too, was to enter a school there, 
and Edith wished to remain near her. 

Breakfast was waiting when they got back, and 
the Bev. Mr. McPherson was waiting too. They 
had not much time to linger over it, for twelve, the 
hour at which the steamer started, was drawing: 
near, and Madge and Edith had to change their 
attire. The snowy bridal robes were doffed for plain 
dark traveling dresses, the servants gathered in the 
entrance hall to bid them farewell, and the wedding 
party descended to the courtyard. 

As they reached the gate, a figure crouching 
there started up, glanced on them menacingly fqp 


THE SISTERS OF TORWOOD. 315 

an instant, then darted into the shrubbery, and dis- 
appeared. 

“ It’s Huldah, poor soul ! ” exclaimed Edith, turn- 
ing pale, and clinging closer to her husband’s arm ; 
“ the}^ tell me she is growing more and more insane 
every day.” 

“ She shall be looked after,” said Colonel Stuart. 
“ Will you drive with us to the boat, Mr. McPher- 
son ? ” 

“ I haven’t time ; I may as well say good-by now 
as then.” 

So good-by was said once more. 

With a very solemn face, Madge leaned out of the 
carriage, where she sat with Angus and Madam 
Torwood. 

“ You may as well make your good-by to me final, 
Mr. McPherson,” Madge said, for you’ll never see 
me again in this world ; and very likely there’ll be a 
gulf between us in the next.” 

“ Why, do you mean to go ? ” Mr. McPherson 

pointed downward. 

“ ]Yo ; and for that very reason I’m afraid we are 
not destined to enjoy each other’s society. If you 
hear I have become a nun one of these days, you 
need not be surprised.” 

‘‘ Nothing Miss Madge Torwood can do will sur- 
prise me ; but I don’t believe you will be a nun. 
Good-by.” 

“ Neither do I,” said Angus, as they drove away. 

A year in a convent will take the nonsense out of 
you, make you a civilized being, and a fit wife for 
Qaptain Angus Torwood. There! don’t fire up. 


3i6 the sisters of torwood. 

now ; behave yourself for once, and take a last view 
of your old home.” 

“Good-by to Torwood Towers,” Madge said, 
standing up to wave her handkerchief. 

Another moment and they were out of sight, and 
off on their journey. 


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